


Flower Boy

by luciferneedsconcent



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Asexual Character, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Bisexual Male Character, Castiel Works in a Store, Castiel- Freeform, Dean- Freeform, Demisexual Castiel (Supernatural), Destiel - Freeform, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, F/M, Grey-Asexual Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Polyamorous relationship, Pride, Tags Contain Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-10-09 06:49:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10406343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luciferneedsconcent/pseuds/luciferneedsconcent
Summary: You know what was stupid? Pretty boys with the bluest eyes to ever blue. Especially when they'd spend at least an hour every morning stringing together sunflowers to turn into a flower crown.





	1. Flower Boy

**Author's Note:**

> This work is updated upon request!

You know what was stupid? Pretty boys with the bluest eyes to ever blue. _Especially_ when they'd spend at least an hour every morning stringing together sunflowers to turn into a flower crown.  
  
What was even _worse_ was that he'd just have to look through the windows and catch Dean's gaze and add a stupid little wave whenever their eyes would meet. How was Dean supposed to play it cool whenever he'd walk into the flower shop and try to Mister Suave his way in and ask, "You got any flour in here?"  
  
How was he supposed to _not_ blush whenever the total dreamboat would smile _every. single. time._ at his horribly bad, almost atrocious, cheesy one-liner? And he was always so polite about it too. Sometimes he'd even play along and 'go check the back' to search for some. And when he did come back, he would always return with shaking his head, trying to look disappointed at the fact that there wasn't any of what Dean needed.  
  
"Really? That's too bad. You'd think a flower shop would have flour." Dean would respond, just in case he wanted to linger and stare at this ridiculously good looking man--but he wasn't gay. He was sure of it. He was dating a wonderful woman named Lisa who--  
  
"What's even more of a shame is that there isn't any flour at a bakery." Dean was pretty sure the butterflies inside his stomach just exploded.  
  
_so much for that whole 'not gay' thing.  
_  
The flower boy would usually just nod and wish him a good 'rest-of-the-day.' This was a whole new revelation and--he needed to respond. What was he supposed to say?  
  
"Well, we don't put our products in our hair! Or false advertise! We actually use our flour to bake and stuff. In large amounts. We use a lot of it." Why he felt the need to defend his corny pick-up line, he didn't know. He wasn't even sure why he felt the need to use a pick-up line on the flower boy in the first place. It was just some urge that kind of just...happened.  
  
Flower boy was the name Dean had coined to the pretty man behind the counter. He didn't know his real name since Flower Boy insisted on removing his name tag _every_ morning before work started. It was kind of unprofessional, really. Who else was Dean supposed to thank for "checking the back" anyways? Sometimes he would add on how 'disappointed his mother would be' at not getting the flour, just to see Flower Boy's reaction.  
  
Dean usually didn't get much of a reaction from him after that. So Dean would just waltz around the store some pretending to look at flowers while Mister-No-Name-Flower-Boy smiled at the other customers and helped them with their purchases. It wasn't fair at all. He just seemed to flow easily with everyone around him. Jerk.  
  
After some pining (which Dean would never admit to do) he would leave the shop. It was called Naomi's, and it represented every stereotypical Grandmother's house in literature existence. It was like some 1950s interior designer had come in and thrown around some pink lace and air fresheners. Not that Dean minded the scent of a 'Cypress Forest' every time he walked through the front door, but he, as a regular, would perhaps enjoy some change.  
  
It wasn't like women were the only customers either. What was the need for the old wood cabin exterior decorating? Why did the shop owner insist on having friggin' curtains that were just for show anyways? Pink curtains. Pink, lace curtains, to be exact. And why the hell did they just HAVE to have flowers in planters on the front windowsills!? It was September. They lived in Kansas! The flowers would freeze at the first snowfall.

 

Whatever, it was stupid anyway.

 

Dean walked back across the street to the Winchester Family Bakery. He never looked across the street before he walked, because he was a friggin’ _badass_ , okay? He didn’t stop for cars. Cars stopped for him. Besides, he could always get them to pay for his medical bill while he was tended to by super hot nurses. Mmmm nurses. He had a girlfriend, damnit. The bell to the bakery dinged as he walked through the door, his mother looking up to him with a warm smile as she kneaded some dough on the counter. She had always suspected that her son had a teeny weeny thing for the flower shop cashier, but she kept it mainly to herself. She wasn’t going to rush anything, but she did have a twenty dollar bet and a nice dinner against her husband John for it.

 

The Winchester Family Bakery wasn’t as big as any industrial place. They liked keeping it in a close place. They weren’t mass shipping to other places, and the regulars were always the sweetest. Why would they want to expand?

 

“So, did you get any flour?” Mary asked as Dean walked around the counter, ready to count the earnings they had made that day. It was close to closing time, and Dean was more than ready to get home and kick his feet off. He had a movie date with Lisa as was their tradition every Thursday night. It was sweet in the moment, but he never really looked forward to hearing her complain about what the rotten children in her Kindergarten class did throughout the week. He was thankful he worked at a fairly quiet bakery, he’d probably shoot the kids if he had the chance.

 

“Nada.” Dean responded, pulling out the drawer to the cash register and taking the money out. He started making piles where each dollar type would go. It was just easier to separate the bucks, count how much was in each pile and then add those up. It was his system, and dammit, it _worked!_  

 

Mary watched as Dean’s lips pursed, counting the money not-so-silently like he thought he did. Her gaze flickered over to the shop across the street, catching Flower Boy to be staring _fondly_ at Dean while he counted. He looked like a teenaged girl who got to sit beside her crush in class. Literally! His chin was resting in his hands and his cheeks were all pink. He was leaning against his register, but quickly pushed off and tripped over his own foot when he saw that Mary was staring at him.

 

_There went his stealthy ninja dream._

 

“I think you should go over and properly introduce yourself. He’s still relatively new in town. He could probably use a friend.” Mary suggested.  Dean could feel his eyes roll to the back of his head--metaphorically, of course. You don’t roll your eyes at Mama Winchester and make it out alive. But, nonetheless it was a good idea. “Also, pick up some of those sunflowers. And make sure to ask how much to water them. I think they would liven up the place a bit.” Dean opened his mouth to object at the whole buying flowers thing, but Mary had quickly risen her hand to his face and interrupted from doing so. That didn’t stop him from letting out an annoyed grunt, but soon he was on his way back over the threshold and across the street--like the _badass_ he _was_ \--and into the flower shop.

 

Flower Boy had quickly straightened his light blue vest when he saw Dean enter the shop again. He tried to act busy by putting some fertilizer in a few of the potted plants, but ended up spilling some onto the floor given that his nerves got the best of him. “Hi. Need any help?” Dean was standing behind him now, his voice _extremely_ manly cracking as he asked the question. Flower Boy--who was crouched on the ground--just shook his head, but Dean just _had_ to crouch down next to him and scoop up some of that fertilizer and pour it into the bag.

 

“My name’s Dean.” He spoke, breaking the awkward silence between them. Flower Boy helped hold the bag open while he scooped another handful of fertilizer into his hands.

 

“I’m Castiel.” So Mister-No-Name-Tag _did_ have a name! Not that Dean was beginning to suspect otherwise or anything.

 

“That’s kinda long.” Dean responded. “Do you have a nickname or something? Is it something cool like C-dawg?” C-dawg? _Really?_ That’s the _best_ he could come up with!? How was Lisa still dating him? He was a complete idiot!

 

Nevermind the idiocy, Castiel freaking _laughed_! It wasn’t even that funny! Maybe there was something more to this guy than his dumb flower crowns. Dean poured the fertilizer into the bag and Castiel shook the bag and sealed it off. Dean watched to make sure it wouldn’t spill again and stood up, lending a hand out to help C-dawg to his feet as well.

 

Castiel took the bag and put it up on some shelf by the other fertilizers, smiling to himself as Dean instinctively followed behind him. “So uh, why do you take your nametag off every morning?” C-dawg turned to look at him over his shoulder as he put the bag on the top shelf.

 

“How do you know that?”

 

 _Shit_ , now Dean was blushing.

 

“My mom thinks you’re cute so--sunflowers! I’m here to get sunflowers!” Dean blabbed out. Sure Dean, _Mary_ thought he was cute.

 

Castiel blushed at him, looking absolutely adorable as his nose wrinkled to try and hide it. Why was he blushing? He didn’t completely embarrass himself in front of--he waved at Dean, beckoning him to follow towards the already grown sunflowers. “Does she have a particular type she likes?”

 

Dean stuttered, how the hell was he supposed to know? She just told him to be nice and make friends with the guy. “The yellow ones.” Dean announced proudly. _God_ , he was lame.

 

“Well that narrows the decision down.”

 

“Really?”

 

“No.”

 

Dean sighed, but Castiel somehow managed to keep the situation from getting too awkward. He was a saint, really. He bent over and picked up a thin beige container that had these dark yellow sunflowers in a squad. “These are my favorite. They’re called Copper Queen’s.”

 

_Note to self: He was even more adorable when he talked about flowers._

 

Dean took the flowers from C-dawg and followed him to the register. He paid, stashing his receipt into his back pocket when he had received it. Castiel went over the watering process and how to fertilize them and probably a little bit of history about it too. Dean didn’t really pay much attention, he had gotten lost in C-dawg’s friggin' eyes.

 

Castiel snapped his fingers when Dean had stared for too long, bringing him back to attention. “Hey uh, do you, do you want to hang out on Friday? I mean--I know you’re new and all--and I dunno you could probably use a friend ‘round here.”

 

Dean Winchester: totally cool under stressful circumstances.

 

Surprisingly, Castiel didn’t take long to form a response. He blushed brightly and looked down some, muttering a quick “sure” beneath his breath.

 

**Mary Winchester: 1**

**Dean: 0**


	2. Date Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Lisa have their date, and then Dean and Castiel hang out (;

 

Lisa arrived around seven-thirty that night. She ditched her usual flowy dresses for something more comfortable: sweatpants and a stained tee shirt. That was kind of what made Dean like her in the first place. She was pretty cool for a chick.

 

Lisa’s hair was pulled into a messy bun, some of the strands hanging down in front of her face, against her cheek. She stepped in when Dean opened the door, thanking him and squirting some of the whipped cream she brought (once again, due to tradition) into her mouth. “You won’t believe what that little ass clown did today!” she started off. She walked into Dean’s kitchen, grabbed a bottle of ibuprofen and swallowed down a pill before returning back out.

 

Dean had tried his best not to sigh too loudly, but a _little_ teeny eeny one might have _accidentally_ slipped out. He was tired of hearing about all those snot-nosed brats. If you asked him, they were way too _privileged_ to be thinking they ran the damn place. Besides, hearing Lisa complain about how those egotistical little shits weren’t even a match for their friggin’ flamboyant parents who’d rush them to the ER if they got a scratch.

 

It sort of made Dean wonder about how Castiel would react to situations like these. _Sure_ , the guy was kind of quiet, maybe awkward even, but usually the people who don’t present themselves as crazy were totally insane. Hell, Dean bet that if someone tried to rough it up with him he would probably pull out some sunflower/knife hybrid and stab it through their eye. Maybe he had a basement where all he did was shave the stems into tiny little stabbing machines and the innocent act was to make people think that he wouldn’t even hurt a fly. _Maybe_ Castiel wasn’t even his real name! _Maybe_ he was secretly a spy who is testing out new government weaponry and this is all just some big cover up? Maybe Castiel--

 

“Like, who even lets their child do that!? If it wasn’t for the good pay, I would have slapped that boy into next week.” Lisa’s question interrupted Dean from his intense thought process on Castiel and his seemingly Hannah Montana lifestyle. Yes, Dean had seen a few episodes of that damned Disney show, but it was only for research! He wanted to see what that show did to her to make her want to stick her tongue out and lick everybody’s--

 

“Dean!?”

 

“Hmm?” _Annnnnnnd_ , he just outed himself for not paying any attention to her. _Great_. He would definitely be hearing about this later the next time Lisa and him would get into an argument.

 

This time Lisa sighed, biting on her cheek afterwards to keep herself from chewing him out. She wasn’t up for fighting right now anyways. She just wanted to cuddle up next to her boyfriend and watch a freaking rom-com. It was therapeutic. “Nevermind, Dean.” her voice sounded a bit passive-aggressive, all she wanted was a little bit of sympathy from him, one more strike and she’d end up as one of the women who sang _Cell Block Tango._ “How about we just pop a movie into the DVD player and eat till our heart’s content?” it was a simple suggestion, and Dean could get on board with that.

 

Dean and Lisa got settled on the couch. They had turned the lights off and had a small personal pan pizza on their laps while the beginning of the movie started to play. To be quite honest, Dean had no idea what movie Lisa had put into the player to begin with. All he knew was that it starred one of his several man crushes (which didn’t make him gay, it made him well cultured), Leonardo DiCaprio, and he was content.

 

Not even halfway through the movie and Dean had completely zoned out. Sure, Leo DiCaprio was adorable, but for some reason he was focused on Castiel. He had no idea what to do when it came to ‘hanging out’ with this dude. It’d be weird if they just sort of went back to Dean’s apartment and cracked open a bottle of wine. Though, Dean wouldn’t pose any arguments if that’s what Castiel really wanted to do. He also was most definitely not taking Castiel to some bar. What if they ended up being friends for a long time? How was he supposed to tell his future children that the first time he and his friend hung out was at a bar? That was Dean’s weakest moment anyways! Get a few drinks in him and he would jump on a table and start belting out some Mariah Carey. He wasn’t going to make Castiel witness that until they were more than just ‘two guys who just happened to work across the street from each other.’

 

Dean thought for some time about what he was going to do with Castiel. A few other ideas had crossed throughout his head. Some of them were relatively normal, others might get them arrested upon suspicion, but there was only one idea that really seemed to stand out. He wasn’t sure if Castiel would be up for a drive, but hopefully he would be perfectly fine with it.

 

Lisa ended up leaving after she realized Dean was fast asleep. He usually made it to the end of these type of movies since he was a hopeless romantic. Something was off, and she would get to the bottom of it. Before she left she went to the closet and pulled down a blanket from one of the shelves. She wrapped the blanket around him securely and put one of the pillows from his bed underneath his head for comfort. She then plugged his alarm clock on the coffee table, knowing that Dean wouldn’t wake up without it and set the time for seven. She then left after that, a tad pissed off, but mainly tired and wanting to get home to her own bed.

 

The next day was excruciatingly slow for both Dean and Castiel. They wouldn’t openly admit it, but they were both strangely looking forward to the events that would happen after work. Before they officially opened for the day, Dean had stopped by Naomi’s just to “check up” on Castiel. His reasoning was just that he wanted to “make sure we’re still on for tonight,” but really, he just found himself wanting to see C-dawg up close before the long day.

 

Castiel had let him in, and Dean had made a comment about how it was nice to see Castiel’s name tag for once, but he was surprised to see that it had a different name on it. Castiel had blushed at the fact that Dean had noticed, and he informed him that his boss thought that his name was too strange, so she just made him wear a different name tag instead. Once again, Dean would never admit to this, but he was _really_ friggin’ pissed about this lady making Castiel wear another dude’s name tag. It was stupid! _Frankly_ , he liked Castiel’s name. Sure, it was a bit odd, but it was cute.

 

They hadn’t had much time to talk then, and Dean left. The plan was for Dean to pick Castiel up after work and then they would ‘hang out.’ Nothing eventful had really happened during the day. Dean did however, look through the window at Castiel more than usual. He had gotten more stealthy whenever he’d steal a look, wanting to admire--examine, the way Castiel’s nose was carved on his face, or the way his hair swept up whenever he’d run his hands through it. Dean had figured C-dawg just used enough gel to get it that way, but perhaps his hair was just like clay and took any form it wanted to.  

 

The end of the day had finally come, and Dean practically bolted out of the shop. He ignored his mother when she called for him, quickly fishing for his keys to pull out of his pocket. He quickly got into his baby, an Impala 67 that he had inherited from his father.

 

Dean’s father was currently in the Marine Corps. As far as Dean knew, he was a pretty tough guy, well known throughout his battalion. His mother was the one who mainly kept in contact with John, though the communication took them forever to learn to do. They usually just sent each other postcards, some fancy cursive whatever written on the back. It wasn’t until a few months ago when John was on leave that they actually got cellphones together and learned how to text. Even then, they only got the phones so they could send _emojis_ to each other. It was gross, but hey, it was their thing.

 

Castiel was closing up the shop when Dean pulled up next to him. The door was unlocked, and Castiel had a light brown plastic bag in his hand. He opened the door and climbed inside, putting the bag on his lap while he closed the door and buckled in.

 

Dean could already feel a warm sensation spread throughout his body. He was almost positive he was blushing again, and if he was, he really hoped that Castiel didn’t notice. “What’s in the bag?” Dean questioned, raising his eyebrows at the mysterious item.

  
Before Castiel could respond, a car behind them honked, and Dean was more than ready to jump out and start swearing at whoever the hell it was for interrupting C-dawg before he could speak. Castiel just laughed it off though, and Dean was able to keep relatively calm enough to drive away.

 

“It’s a present for you.” Castiel informed him, a slight blush on his cheeks. He felt the same warm sensation as Dean did, but didn’t comment on it.

 

“For me?” Dean questioned, turning to look at Castiel with a raised eyebrow. C-dawg nodded.

 

When they got to a red light, Dean turned to look at him with a smile. C-dawg unveiled the gift: a bag of flour.

 

It didn’t register for quite a bit, the placement was just very...distracting, but soon enough Dean started to laugh. He thanked Castiel, who covered it back up and tied the handles of the bag.

 

Castiel and Dean sat in a comfortable silence while Dean drove. Which was kind of odd, considering how they really hadn’t spoken much--at all. Soon Dean turned a corner, revealing a large gated field area. He drove over the pebbled passageway, which was lined with red, white, and pink cosmos. There was a roundabout that was also filled with the same flowers, a tan sign in the middle reading: Cain’s Bee Farm. Given by the joyful squeak that came from Castiel, he really freaking liked this place.

 

_He was also really freaking adorable._

  
Dean drove through the gate, soon approaching a large, tan building. A man with long hair stood outside with his hands in his pockets, standing up straighter when he saw them pull into a parking spot.   

Castiel unbuckled and got out of the car, soon followed by Dean. The man who was standing in front of the building approached them, shaking Dean’s hand first, then Castiel’s. “Dean Winchester,” Dean introduced. “We spoke on the phone.” Cain nodded to him, then once again to Castiel and beckoned them inside.

 

All this Cain dude really did was give them these really big white suits. Of course he went over safety procedures like not tipping over a hive ‘just for fun.’ Apparently a group of kids had done that and gotten stung, which ended up turning into a lawsuit. Either way, they both had to sign an agreement stating that if they hurt themselves it was because they were being idiots. After they were dressed in the space suits (or so Dean called them), Cain allowed them to go walk among the bees by themselves.

 

Cain opened the door to the back and Castiel stepped through first. Dean followed behind him, soon joining him at his side. They had to concentrate on walking down a pathway while they got used to the fabric of the suit, but once they had, that’s when the conversation really picked up.

 

“I figured this would be a cool place to get to know you,” Dean chuckled nervously. If he could’ve he would have scratched the back of his neck, which now itched due to his nervousness. He couldn’t help it. Castiel just had that effect on him. “I assumed you like flowers, and bees help them grow--right? I thought you’d like to be with the bees?” his face was red all over again.

 

Castiel looked over at him with a soft smile, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Bees help pollinate flowers.” his cheeks turned pink and he looked away, smiling at all of the hives off in the distance. Dean really had put a lot of thought into this, it was sweet.

 

“So uh, what’s your favorite color?” Dean asked, his voice shaking. He couldn’t understand why he was so nervous, but apparently he was, and that wasn’t going to change _any freaking time soon._ Mary had gone over simple questions to ask when ‘trying to make friends for the first time’ so that it wouldn’t get awkward. Of course she did all of this when she caught Dean Googling ways during his lunch break, which prompted the conversation.

 

Castiel turned back to look at him again. “Well, I really like the color green.” Coincidentally, the _exact_ same color as Dean’s eyes type of green.  “What about you?”

 

Dean really hadn’t noticed the sliiiiiiight hinting that Castiel was doing, but he did take a second to evaluate the question and think about what color was his favorite. Without any other thought to it, Dean just easily responded with, “Well, I really like the color blue.”

  
Castiel blushed. 

“So what made you want to be a baker?” Castiel asked, tilting his head to the side and squinting his eyes.

 

Dean shrugged simply. “I just really like pie, and my mother didn’t really give me any other choice.”

 

Castiel chuckled.

 

Dean and Castiel ended up walking around the path for awhile. The sun had long set behind them, and truth be told, they would’ve stayed out all night if it wasn’t private property. Dean and Castiel had found a stone bench to sit on underneath a large tree. The area was shaded, and the rest of the world seemed to disappear from view. It wasn’t until eight or so till Cain came back to find them, quickly bringing them back to the building and taking the suits back. They both thanked him, soon going back to Dean’s car.

 

Dean and Castiel got back in the Impala. Dean offered to drive him home, and Cas was too tired to argue otherwise. Besides, taking the bus this late at night would resolve in something bad happening. Mainly robbery, and Dean wasn’t about to let Castiel get robbed.

 

The drive to Castiel’s place was fairly quiet. He had told Dean where to turn and all, but overall the two men were just enjoying the other’s company. Dean soon pulled up to the front of the condo where Castiel lived, watching him unbuckle his seatbelt and go for the handle on the door.

 

“Hey, Cas?” Dean asked, waiting tentatively for Castiel to look at him. And he did, surprised to have been given a nickname.

 

“What was that?” Castiel asked, once again tilting his head.

 

Dean just shrugged simply. “Castiel and C-dawg are too long. I took matters into my own hands. You’re welcome.” He grinned proudly, sticking his tongue out afterward. Cas laughed.

 

“Can I see you tomorrow?” Dean asked, watching Cas’ lips turn into a smile.

 

“Of course.”

 

“Good. I’ll see you at noon.”

 

Castiel rolled his eyes, blushing even more at Dean’s comment. He got out of the Impala, waving to Dean when the door was closed. He then turned and went inside his building complex, Dean watching as he walked inside to make sure he was safe.

 

The drive back to Dean’s place wasn’t too grand. If anything, it felt lonely. The quietness of it all felt uncomfortable, almost like a space was missing within the vehicle. He didn’t understand, and frankly he just didn’t care enough to think about it for too long. Dean reached for the radio, turning the dial on low to try and block out some of the lonely air.

 

“ _It’s times like these when silence means everything_

_More than anything_

_So fall when you’re ready baby_

_Let our kiss count the moments and hearts set the pace…_ ”

 

Dean’s keys rattled as he unlocked the door to his place. He held the bag of flour that Castiel gave him in one hand and turned the knob on the door with the other. He stepped inside, flicking the light on and locking the door behind him after it shut. He then went to put the bag on the table, removing the plastic and noticing a green sticky note on it. Dean rolled his eyes, a full blush now prominent on his face. On the note was a winky face, with a set of numbers scribbled underneath it.

_Son of a bitch._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what'd y'all think about Castiel giving Dean flour? :D Did you see it coming? Did you think he was going to give Dean something else?  
> This was more of a filler chapter, I guess. I kind of wanted to introduce Lisa now because she is going to be very important later on in the story. I won't give any spoilers, but she is a very cool chick-a-doo! (please send help I don't know what I'm doing with my life)  
> Also, what's your opinion on the place where Dean and Castiel went to 'hang out'?
> 
> Song: Fall into Me - Brantley Gilbbert
> 
> This end note is supes' long, but i'm already working on the third chapter (it'll probably be done by the time I post this) and it is so magnificent so far wow.


	3. The Bakery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel and Dean hang out again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was actually not what I had originally written for the third chapter. It was supposed to be completely different, but I didn't really like how quickly things had escalated in it, so I'm probably just going to save what I originally wrote for a little bit later in the story. Also, this chapter briefly touches on some religious stuff, so if you aren't okay with that, feel free to skip over it. I am in no way a professional religious person either, so you should not take my word as gospel either. Thank you!

Dean slept restlessly that night. He would either be too cold or too hot, or even too lonely at times. He would’ve invited Lisa over (at least that’s what he told himself) but she had a very strict ‘Once my bra is off, I am not moving from my bed’ rule. He wasn’t even sure what time it was, he figured around three in the morning. Even then, it wasn’t a perfect sleep. Every few minutes he’d jolt awake, legs wanting him to spring from bed and go run around the block. And Dean was never one for exercise, sure he _occasionally_ went to the gym, but that was mainly just so he could check himself out in the mirror or to get “inspo” for his dream muscular body. Sometimes he would work out, but mostly, he had no motivation or desire to.

 

At some point during the evening, Dean had fallen asleep. It didn’t feel like very long to him, but he managed to get a good few hours in before the day had started. He did however, find himself to have a strange dream. Usually Dean would just dream about pie falling from the sky, which would sometimes fluctuate between just pie, just burgers, or a mix of both. Other times he wouldn’t dream at all. But this, was _definitely_ out of the ordinary.

 

Dean was walking beside Cas, their hands occasionally sliding against each other. They were in some sort of park, a festival going on in the background. He wasn’t very aware in his dreams, but he did have a sneaking suspicion that this was some sort of Valentine’s Day bullshit, and he was not about to put up with i--Dream Cas wanted him there, so he was. Cas and Dean had walked down a pathway with pink rose petals thrown all along it. On their sides was orange lanterns hanging above each archway. Some banners strung with different flowers and whatnot separated the lanterns one by one, Dean figuring too much work had gone into this freakin’ dream. Castiel pointed out to something in the water, a couple of swans who had their heads bent against the other’s forehead in the shape of the heart. It was really kind of stupid, but another wave of that same warmness he felt with day Cas rushed over him again. Dream Dean had turned to look at Castiel, who was smiling widely up at him. He felt his hand being squeezed, and when he brought it up to relieve the pressure, Cas’ hand came with it, leaving them both blushing and grinning and trying to avoid the other’s eye contact. What was even stranger was that Dean didn’t even seem to care that Dream Castiel had just taken his hand. _Granted,_ it was a dream, but _still_ . Dream Cas tugged on Dean’s hand, beckoning him closer. And Dean friggin’ complied; he wasn’t sure why, but it probably had something to do with the way that Cas just had such a captivating look on his _overrated_ face. So Dean took a step forward, and Castiel had put his free hand on Dean’s hip. They were staring into each other’s eyes now, and Dean could easily count the reflections of each lantern that was behind him. Apparently Dean had leaned in a bit, and Castiel had too. Dean just barely watched Cas’ eyes close while his head tilted, slowly trying to close the gap between them. Key word: trying. Because _APPARENTLY_ , even in his dreams, there was still going to be a massive third friggin’ wheel.  And that _son-of-a-bitch_ had the damn _audacity_ to just push right between them right before everything was about to get much better than the stupid festival that he had been dragged too. And _why in the ever loving hell_ did this dude decide to show up to a festival dressed as a blindfolded cupid and ride around on a unicycle? What was he expecting? To not fall into the pond and upset some swans? Wasn’t that a new form of animal cruelty or something? Should Dean call the dream cops and get this idiot--he was awake now.

 

He quickly kicked the covers off of him. He was sweating, and his alarm wouldn’t shut up. He was beginning to question why he even bought it. It was becoming a symbol of unholy screeching. Dean just went ahead and unplugged it, previous methods of screaming at it to make it learn how he felt every morning had failed anyways. Maybe one day there would be an alarm clock that would turn off after he screamed at it in the mornings.

 

Dean had gotten up and pulled a few clothes from his laundry chair. Why put everything away in a decent manner when you can just create a clothes mountain on your chair? Exactly. Dean was practically a _genius_. He grabbed a pair of jeans and a tee shirt and stepped into the shower. It felt nice to have the heat of the water relieve some of the tensions that built up during the days.

 

The shower was quick, Dean had already quickly scrubbed his hair and body, jumping out to dry off and pull his clothes on. He was excited to see Cas again, he couldn’t explain it. He just wanted to spend time with the guy, and get to know him a little better. He just wanted to know every tiny detail about him. After his clothes were on, Dean went back into his bedroom and grabbed his phone. He had saved Cas’ number the night before, giving him the contact name of ‘Cliché Bastard.’ He had the usual ‘Good Morning’ text from Lisa, a few from his mother asking how his night with Castiel went, but he had more pressing things to worry about right now.

 

**sent to: Cliche Bastard**

**8:00 am**

**Very clever with the flour, Cas**

 

**Received:**

**8:01 am**

**Figured it was a nice touch**

 

**Sent to: Cliche Bastard**

**8:01 am**

**Wasn’t expecting it, to say the least**

 

**Received:**

**8:02 am**

**We still set for noon?**

 

**Sent to: Cliche Bastard**

**8:02 am**

**Of course**

 

**Received:**

**8:02 am**

**Good. I’ll have to find a way to kill time then**

 

**Sent to: Cliche Bastard**

**8:03 am**

**I could always come now *laughing emoji***

 

**Received:**

**8:03 am**

**I’ll see you soon.**

 

**Sent to: Cliche Bastard**

**8:05 am**

**On my way.**

 

When Dean arrived at Castiel’s condo complex, he was already waiting outside. He had on a simple maroon tee shirt and a pair of faded jeans. Over that was a ridiculously tan trench coat, which really clashed with the outfit if you asked Dean. He approached Dean’s Impala, waving at him before opening the door and sliding in. “Well Good Morning to you, Mister Posh. Though, if you’re trying to woo me, I think I’d prefer you in a neatly fitted gray suit. Just a thought.” Dean teased. Surprisingly, his usual smart-assery was at its prime during the mornings, and the nervousness of actually being around Cas subsided after getting to know him some the night before.

 

Castiel just rolled his eyes. He turned and pulled his seatbelt on before turning to Dean with a gummy smile. “Good Morning to you too Mister _I-Don’t-Care-About-My-Looks_. I’ll remember that thing about the gray suit, and I figured I would dress nice today, because I want to take you somewhere.”

 

Dean raised an eyebrow at him. Take _him_ somewhere? Do totally no-bromosexual dudes just take each other out? Him and Cas hadn’t even _known_ each other that long and Castiel was already making plans. “Relax,” Cas chuckled, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. “You took me somewhere nice to get to know me, and I wanted to do the same today to get to know you better.”

 

Dean didn’t look too _enthusiastic_ about it, but Castiel just smiled a charming smile and _just-so-happened_ to place his hand on top of Dean’s in a _totally_ no homo way that made Dean’s heart melt into him saying yes.

 

**Castiel: 1**

**Dean: (still) 0**

 

“I’m driving though.” Dean grumbled, turning back to the wheel and pulling out of the front loop. Castiel just giggled the entire time, soon giving Dean directions on where to turn whenever they’d get to a certain street.

 

Their voyage soon ended with Dean glaring over at Castiel, who was smiling proudly at himself when they had reached their destination. They had parked just outside of the Winchester Family Bakery, and Castiel couldn’t just say, “I want to check out your bakery,” he had to make Dean drive around different back roads and waste most of his gas just because Cas felt like being a dick to him. It was really lucky that he was cute, or else Dean would’ve drove his ass back home and made him pay for the gas on the way. The jerk probably didn’t even bring his wallet just in case that was what happened anyways. _Damn you_ , Castiel Novak.

 

“Are you going to stop grimacing at me or are we just going to sit here in the silence?” Castiel asked sweetly, adding on an innocent batting of his eyelashes. Dean couldn’t even comprehend how Castiel could so easily go from an awkward flower boy to a little shit in .2 seconds.

 

“You owe me twenty for the gas money,” Dean grumbled, soon unlocking his baby and stepping out. Cas was quick to follow, closing the door and trotting on the sidewalk so he wouldn’t get hit.

 

Luckily, Dean had a spare key to the shop and they were able to get in. He flicked on the light and watched as Cas’ grin changed from sarcastic, to a genuine happy one. He looked around the small shop with wide, captivated eyes, like he was learning the layout of everything all at once. It was kind of amazing to just watch Cas examine everything. His fingers skimmed against all of the surfaces as he walked past them, and when he got over to the other side of the bakery, he flashed Dean a cheesy grin. “This is awesome!”

 

Dean couldn’t help but return a fond smile, eyes wrinkling in the corners. He took a step forward, looking around his usual turf and shrugging. He wasn’t sure what made this place so cool or exciting to Cas, but apparently it was, and Dean wasn’t one to ruin his joy. “So what made you want to come here of all places?” Dean asked curiously. It wasn’t like it was a strange request, but they could’ve gone somewhere else.

 

Cas smiled wider, opening his arms as if he were about to hug someone and glanced around before dropping them again. “I just think that where a person works says a lot about them, and I figured it’d make you more comfortable to talk here since you know the lay of the land...plus, I’ve never been to a bakery before,” Cas mumbled that last part looking around at all of the goods in the display shelves.

 

“Lay of the land? Seriously!? We’re not in the good ‘ole plague ridden days, Castiel.” Dean chuckled, but suddenly his face went serious. “Did you just say that you’ve never been to a bakery before?”

 

Castiel was silent.

 

“Cas…?”

 

Silence.

 

“C-dawg?”

 

That got a chuckle, and soon Castiel gave in. “So what if I’ve never been before!? My mother was very strict.”

 

Dean raised an eyebrow at that, holding a hand up as he spoke, “But you’ve had to have had desserts before, Cas!” And given by the silence that followed, he had not.

 

“ _Seriously!?_ Never?” Dean questioned, stepping so that he was in Cas’ personal space. Castiel nodded slowly, his gaze shifting behind the counter that had a display shelf underneath.

 

In an act of pure bro’s helping bro’s out, Dean took Cas’ wrist and pulled him behind the counter. Dean pulled a few bags out from underneath some of the cupboards that were behind the counter and presented them to Castiel, who looked extremely confused at everything. “We’re making brownies. Trust me, they’ll taste way better once you make them yourself.” Dean grabbed a bowl and went in the back to grab some eggs, butter, and unsweetened Baker’s chocolate. Cas was really in for a treat.

 

When Dean returned, he had Cas follow him into the bathroom and they washed their hands; Dean hovering over him just to make sure he scrubbed his (surprisingly long) fingers and underneath his nails. The Winchester Family Bakery prided itself on its top notch food service, and even if these brownies were not going to be sold, they would be treated as such.

 

They then got back to the counter and Dean handed Castiel the box of chocolate to open while he cut ¾ ths of the butter. Cas broke up the chocolate and put it in a bowl as instructed by Dean, who then put the butter in the bowl and had Cas follow him to the microwave so they could melt the two ingredients together.

 

“So, why has poor, unfortunate little Castiel’s mother deprived him of the sugary sweetness that is freshly baked pastries and desserts?” Dean asked, folding his arms as he watched Cas lean against the counter with his hip.

 

He blushed underneath Dean’s gaze. “My mother is very religious,” He tried to explain, which earned a nod from Dean, who seemed to know where this was going to go. “One of the seven deadly sins is greed, and whenever my brothers and sisters and I would pass by a bakery or see a bag of candy and want some, my mother would think that the devil was trying to get us to defy God. Therefore, instead of candy we got bible lessons.”

 

Dean’s eyebrows furrowed. “And your mother just doesn’t understand that kids are kids and are going to want candy?”

 

Castiel shrugged simply. “She was doing what she thought was right, and I suppose in her own weird way she was just trying to protect us from getting cavities.”

 

Dean nodded, though he wasn’t sure he was this lady’s biggest fan. “So, your mother is freaky religious, what about you?”

 

Castiel smiled at Dean softly. This was some of the types of conversations he had wanted to have with Dean. Not any of the crazy you’re either wrong or right, but more of a discussion. He always figured that Dean was rather smart, and the fact that he didn’t just shit on religion made talking to him a little easier. “I think I’m loosely religious. I mean, I believe in God, but some of the things that I’ve read are a bit questionable given my personal experiences.”

 

This only intrigued Dean more. “Personal experiences?” his lips pursed as he thought, and he shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “I bet you weren’t allowed to eat shrimp, huh? And then you took a bite of one and thought it was the best fish in the ocean and wanted more, didn’t you?”

  
Castiel chuckled, throwing his head back. “Sexuality wise, Dean.” He blushed a deep pink, and Dean leaned back a bit in an act to give him some space. “Oh.”

There was some silence, and Castiel could feel the elephant in the room practically staring through his soul. “I’m demiromantic.” Castiel explained, which earned a confused look from Dean. “I don’t feel any sort of romantic or sexual interest in anyone until I have a strong bond with them. I guess I would classify more as demi-homosexual because my main interest is in men. Not that the ladies aren’t wonderful in their own way, but I guess I’m strictly into dick.”

 

Dean chuckled, his dimples crevassing in his cheeks. He liked the fact that Castiel was completely cool with addressing topics, and explained things in an easy to understand way. Frankly, Dean was thankful that Castiel elaborated, because it showed that he wasn’t afraid to be himself, and that was rather attractive. If anything, it made him easier to talk to.

 

“I’m assuming your mother had a cow when she found all of this out?” Dean asked, though it wasn’t meant in a condescending way. He was just more curious than anything, and Castiel was the type of guy who’d explain things rather than get defensive.

 

“It was pretty impressive watching her give birth to it,” Cas teased lightly, chuckling at his own joke before shaking his head. “No, I think she saw it coming for awhile actually. I had taken a particular interest in flowers, which was practically a huge red warning sign for her. I guess she figured it was just a phase, but when I did finally come out to her, she went on a tangent about how she shouldn’t have allowed me to tend to them, how she was a bad mother because she let the devil tempt me, and some other things.”

 

Dean listened intently as Castiel spoke. “So what happened after the tangent?”

 

“She took a thing of gasoline and a lighter to my flower pots and burned them.”

 

Dean’s face fell, and he stared at Cas with clear sadness in his eyes. It was obvious that flowers weren’t just some phase for him, he really did enjoy taking care of them. It crushed Dean to know that someone could just kill something that made the man that stood in front of him so ridiculously happy, and he almost felt like he had to make up for the shitty way that Cas had been treated. Before he had a chance to respond, (most likely by a hug of some sort) the timer to the microwave beeped and Dean pulled the bowl of melted butter and almost completely melted chocolate out.

 

Dean grabbed a wooden spoon and handed it over to Castiel. “Mix that until the chocolate is completely melted. I’ll go ahead and get the rest of the ingredients ready.”

 

Castiel took the spoon, and after some confusion of which way he was supposed to stir, he had begun. Meanwhile, Dean pulled three farm fresh eggs from a small basket and took them to the sink, washing them thoroughly. These eggs were so fresh that there was still feathers stuck to them, which was kind of nice to know they came straight from the chicken. Dean removed various measuring equipment from different drawers and lined them up on the counter. He scooped two cups of sugar, a cup of flour, and got a teaspoon of vanilla extract. He mixed the ingredients into the bowl while Castiel stirred, grinning when he noticed that Cas’ tongue stuck out when he concentrated. As Cas stirred, Dean tore open a bag of chocolate chips and poured all of them in the bowl; and given by Castiel’s face, he was sure to get diabetes just from eating a crumb.

  
While Castiel continued to stir, Dean set the oven to 350 and grabbed a small baking sheet, lining it with aluminum foil and covering it with cooking spray. When that was done, Dean took the bowl from Cas and poured the mixture into the pan while Cas smoothed it over with the wooden spoon. Once the oven was preheated, Dean pulled the door down and slid the sheet inside, setting a timer for thirty-five minutes.

As they waited, Dean and Castiel collected the bags that had been used and went to put them back. They stepped back into the front of the store and behind the counter, Cas handing the bag of sugar to Dean to put away since he wasn’t sure where it went.

 

“Did your mom let you do anything fun?” Dean questioned, turning around to look at Castiel, who seemed surprised at the inquiry.

 

“We never really did anything that you’d think was fun. We usually just went to church and did a two-hour bible study every evening. At the time, I enjoyed them. The stories that had been taught were pretty interesting to me, mainly because they surpassed the capabilities of humans.” was the response, and it would be a lie if Dean said that his heart didn’t flutter just at the thought of five-year-old Castiel reading the bible and thinking the characters were some sort of super heroes.

 

“So what was your favorite story then?”

 

Castiel looked off into space while he thought about how to answer. He nodded his head as he debated which one was his absolute favorite, and when he opened his mouth to speak, he was met with a ball of flour crashing into his face. “DEAN!”

  
A raucous laughter filled the room as Dean quickly hurried his way from around the counter, quickly being followed by Castiel with a powdered ball in his hand to get him back. He aimed, and Dean’s tee shirt looked like he had been hit with a paintball, the white dust getting everywhere.

 

Ten minutes later and they were both covered head to toe in flour, gigantic grins spread across their faces. Dean now had Castiel pinned up against the counter, holding his hands behind his back. That little shit had threatened to go out there and cover Dean’s baby in flour, and _his_ baby was not a joking matter. There was any space between them, and their grins had fallen into a much different expression than before. Cas’ eyes constantly studied Dean’s face, asking for something that he couldn’t interpret. There was a feeling between the two, an undeniable feeling that terrified Dean into the middle of next week. His lips were parted, head tilted, and his eyes roamed Cas’ features just as his eyes had done earlier. Neither of them had moved from that position. Dean was convinced that the world was frozen and they were the only two people on the planet. His brain swirled, and he could feel Cas tug him closer with his rough hands. What in the actual _hell_ was Dean feeling? Instead of racing, he could feel his heart beat rapidly against his chest, making his ears ring. He felt hot, and like he might throw up. His throat went dry, along with his lips, and he couldn’t move. He was just frozen, standing pressed against Castiel, staring down at him.

 

It felt like a lifetime went by as the two stared at each other. Dean could have sworn they’d have grown old together in that one spot if it weren't for the buzzer on the oven jolting them from their trances. Dean had quickly pushed Castiel away, running from their spot and into the kitchen, throwing an oven mit on and pulling the brownies out.

 

Dean sincerely wanted to let cooling times just fuck off for once, but he was not a neanderthal. He shoved them into the refrigerator to cool, ignoring Castiel when he peered through the doorway.

 

“Dean? Are you alright?”

 

No. He was not “alright.” He wanted to scream at Castiel to get out, to slam a door in his face. He had _never_ felt anything like _that_ in his life! He never felt the need to just pull someone so close that there wasn't any space between them before. He never felt the world standstill, and he _certainly_ never felt his heart beat on him like a drum. So, when he turned to look at Castiel completely red faced and screamed at him to _get out_ , it wasn't in anger. It was because he was afraid. He had a _girlfriend_ , and the way that Castiel just attracted him scared the shit out of him. Cas was a _dude_ , Lisa was a _female_. However, it was fairly obvious that only one of them excited him; and that someone was still standing in the doorway, reading him like he was a book.

 

“ _Dean_ ,” Cas’ voice was calm, soothing even, and he took a step forward.

 

Dean screamed at him again, this time tears streaming down his face. And soon Dean’s screams for him to leave were muffled by his face crashing against Castiel’s stupid maroon tee shirt, clawing it up and holding on to it.

  
**(A/N: When the archive doesn't allow beginning and ending notes so you gotta add one at the end of a chapter...HOLLA! Anyways, I hope you guys are enjoying this story so far. I didn't think it was going to escalate like this so soon, and as much as I wanted to wait more to get to the relationship stuff, I REALLY want to get to the romance. My friend criticized me for taking too long and dragging everything out, so hopefully everything still works with this? Also, I really hope I am doing Dean and his struggle to accept himself and his feelings justice. I’m really afraid that I am jumping too quickly with all of this, so please leave me a comment and tell me what you think. Thank you! OH! AND ONE MORE THING: you've probably noticed that this isn't my typical posting day *no shit* well, it is because the rest of this week is getting crazy hectic and I don't think I’ll be able to post on Thursday like I usually do. AND OTHER GOOD NEWS: another chapter might be coming out this week to make up for next. My grandfather is coming to visit so to make up for possibly not posting next week, I might post chapter 4 once I’m finished with it later today!)**


	4. Dean Takes the Charlie Bradbury Bisexuality Test™

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically, what the title suggests my friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a side note my friends, I know that the title seems like I'm poking fun at accepting being Bisexual, but that is really not my intention to make fun of anybody who is Bisexual. I understand that coming out is a very difficult thing to do, and the last thing I would want is for anyone to be upset.
> 
> Also, I know I'm kind of throwing the romance really quickly in this story, but I'm horrible at developing characters. Plus, CopaceticBrainBox did it with Dean Winchester is *NOT* Hot For Teacher, so darn it, I am too! (which is a really great story and 10/10 recommend!
> 
> This chapter is the beginning of the Destiel my friends! Enjoy!

It was Sunday morning. The birds were chirping, the alarm clock was unplugged, and Dean was completely wide awake because the friggin’ sun seeped through his blinds and just _had_ to get right in his eyes. Begrudgingly, Dean sat up in his bed, pawing at the air in an attempt to block the light from his eyes. Which, you know, didn’t quite work out until he got out of bed and pulled the blinds so that they would close. He had work today, which was more of inventory than actually dealing with people. Besides, they were closed on Sunday’s due to people wanting to do the Hallelujah; since, ya know, he lived in Kansas which was a pretty religious place all things considered.

  
Luckily, it was already nine in the morning, which meant that Castiel was probably in church listening intently to whatever sermon was being held. Dean was trying his hardest not to pick up his phone and just call Cas up; yesterday hadn’t exactly gone as planned. It was supposed to be a nice little rendezvous to once again, get to know each other a little more, but Dean ultimately ruined it by over exaggerating his feelings. He wasn’t even sure how long he held on to Castiel, but it was a lot longer than what he had imagined. In a way it was just comforting to be in his arms, which would scare Dean more, making him cry more. And Dean wasn’t a crier, which made the situation even _worse_. But Cas was a good sport, and he sat on the floor with him, holding him tightly and rocking him back and forth.

They hadn’t talked after that. Sure, it had been a day, and Castiel called numerous times to check up on him, but there really was no way of coming back from, ‘hey man, thanks for being a real bro and letting me cry on your shoulder in a totally non-bromantic way, bro.’ Cas had even tried to text him, but Dean couldn’t even bare to open the full messages in fear of the receipt showing he did. That would make it so that he would HAVE to respond, and he was trying to avoid that as much as possible. If it meant ignoring Castiel, than that was what was going to have to happen. _Just_ until he was able to wrap his head around everything.

 

Dean approached his clothes mountain, which had been named by Lisa the first time she went into his room. He pulled out a pair of jeans, and pulled numerous shirts until he found a black Led Zepplin one that was practically begging to be worn. He quickly pulled his clothes on and shoved his phone into his pocket. Every now and then he’d feel his phone buzz, and he was almost half convinced that it was Cas defying God and texting during church. However, he would soon find out that it was only Lisa.

 

The ride down the elevator felt longer than usual. It gave Dean some alone time, which only made him think about yesterday’s events and make him cringe at how poorly he handled the situation. He practically became putty in Castiel’s hands. And by putty, he meant a crying ball of emotion. Castiel had rubbed his back and wiped the tears away, shushing him and holding him securely until the rest of the tears had gone away. Eventually the tears had stopped, and they had stayed in that position for a lot longer than Dean had hoped for. It was ridiculous, he was a grown man and he was allowing himself to be held and rocked just like a baby because he was afraid of liking someone. A _man_ , nonetheless. Even when Dean had finally pulled away from Castiel (which was a step up from physically shoving him), it had been awkward. The brownies had been left in the refrigerator, and Castiel just stood up and left after some time. He probably didn’t even want to see Dean after that, but _still_ he tried to check up on him.

 

The elevator doors soon opened and he stepped out. He exited the front doors to his apartment complex and walked over to the Impala, getting in and blaring AC/DC the entire drive to the bakery.

 

Walking in weighed heavily on him. All of the memories came swarming back, and his breath caught in his throat. Though it was difficult, Dean repressed his feelings and stepped into the kitchen, opening the back door and hauling crates of sugar, flour, and all sorts of other things into the supply room. In a way it was pretty therapeutic. The ‘heavy’ lifting taking his mind off of his embarrassment and into big _manly_ thoughts instead. Lifting, carrying, lightly putting down, and repeat. That was until all of the crates were inside, and then he started to unpack them all. Dean grabbed the blue plastic clipboard that was chained to the wall and undid the clasp. He took a pencil and started checking things off while he put them away, finishing around eight in the evening or so.

 

The drive home wasn’t very exciting either. All it really did was leave him to his thoughts as he sped down the road, constantly replaying last night’s adventure all over again. He continued to beat himself up for acting the way he did, but he couldn’t bring himself to pick up the phone. He didn’t want to look at the small screen and see all of the messages that he had missed from Lisa or Castiel. It was a bit too much right now. He just wanted to get home and change into his sweatpants and eat until he regretted it.

 

_So he ate his feelings when he was upset, deal with it._

 

Dean got back to his apartment around nine thirty. He stopped at a drive-thru and picked up a burger; because he needed it, damn it!

  
He was now slouching on his sofa, feet propped up on his wooden coffee table and scrolling through webpages on his laptop. Specifically, webpages that would clear up this whole demisexual thing to him, because frankly, Castiel made him feel a certain way, and Dean wanted to be able to understand him.

One of the “related webpages” was an ad for some professional sexuality website and, well, curiosity overcame him and he clicked on the link. The header of the webpage was red, and in a cursive red font was: The Official Blog of World Renowned Sexuality Expert, Charlie Bradbury. Sure, it was a little wordy, but there were categories labeled ‘buy my books on Amazon™!’ etcetera. And as if it were a sign from God himself, the featured post of the day was a Bisexuality Test.

 

Dean knew all about Bisexuality. When he was younger he had looked into it a bit. He found some guys attractive, he would admit, but never enough to act on it. That was until a certain flower boy just happened to open up shop right across from him.

  


Before Dean knew it, he was answering questions for this _stupid_ test. He had finished after the fifteenth question, and now he was watching the cursor rotate while it loaded his results: **_You Are Hella Bi_ **.

 

He groaned, quickly closing the lid to his laptop and throwing it over to the other side of his sofa. Dean pulled his phone from his back pocket (which to his astonishment, wasn’t dead yet) and dialed Castiel’s number. He wasn’t thinking clearly, and when he heard Cas’ worried tone over the receiver, he instantly regretted it.

 

“Dean! Are you okay? I haven’t heard from you all day and I was really starting to worry.”

 

“Can you come over?” Dean sighed.

 

Cas fell silent for a moment, but there was some shuffling on the other end and Dean could hear some keys jingle. “ _Of course_. Text me your address.”

  


Castiel took the bus. A _bus_. Some time past ten in the evening because Dean called him and wanted him over. He could have gotten robbed, but because he was asked to come, he didn’t think twice. He just hopped right on and ran straight up the stairs because the elevator “would have been too slow.” You know who wouldn’t have done that? Lisa.

 

“ _Geez_ Cas, you really didn’t have to run up the stairs. I could’ve waited the extra minute.”

 

“You needed me, Dean. I would have flown if I had wings.”

 

Dean stepped to the side and opened his door wider, letting Castiel inside. He was panting, and little beads of sweat lined his forehead. Dean closed the door behind him and led him to the sofa. While Castiel got comfortable, Dean went ahead and slipped into the kitchen. He pulled a tall glass from his dishwasher and filled it with ice and water. He also pulled the brownies out from his refrigerator, which he had stolen from the bakery. Yes, the exact ones he had made with Castiel the night before.

 

Dean brought the water and brownies out to Castiel, who accepted the water graciously. He swallowed half of it in one gulp, which had impressed Dean if he did say so himself. Dean set the brownies in the space between them, watching as Castiel leaned over to put his glass on the coffee and stare at Dean. “So what’s up? You sounded like you were about to cry over the phone.”

 

His chest got tighter. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. It was the same feeling whenever he looked into the mirror when he was little. _Three_ words. Three stupid little words. Dean just wanted to say them, to get them out, to accept everything. Reading it off of a screen was much friggin’ easier to register than actually saying them. Why was it so hard? Words were words. Actions spoke louder than them. He _certainly_ didn’t do any actions to warrant any validity to said words. _Well_ , not _said_.

 

Dean’s eyes closed. He took in a deep breath, and then another. He got his heart rate down, and his eyes reopened. For some strange reason he took Cas’ hands in his own; like just the touch of him would make everything better. Castiel didn’t even break his eye contact with Dean. He let his hands be held, like it was second nature for that to happen with Dean.

 

He tried to at least get an “I” out, but it only ended in a wheeze. Instead, because there wasn’t any possible way that he would be able to say it otherwise, he grabbed his laptop and wiggled the mouse so that it would awaken. When the screen had gone from black to the webpage, he showed it to Castiel, who raised his eyebrows. He looked over at Dean, who closed the lid to his laptop and blossomed a deep pink.

 

“So you’re Bisexual?” Castiel whispered. He didn’t know why, but for him it fit the mood. He couldn’t explain it.

 

Dean gently put his laptop on the coffee table and leaned back against the sofa, giving Cas a dejected look. “I haven’t actually acted on it. I could just be going crazy.”

 

Castiel chuckled softly and leaned against the sofa as well. “It’s okay to say the words, Dean. You know I won’t hurt you for it.”

 

Dean sighed, and he knew Cas was right. No matter how hard he had tried though, it wasn’t going to come out. “Maybe I’m not and I just freaked myself out. It’s late, and I tend to make really bad decisions when it’s late. I probably just need to sleep it off is all.”

 

Cas pursed his lips, thinking tentatively for a moment before responding. “Well then let’s test your theory.”

 

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Test my theory?” a chuckle was followed, and Castiel shrugged.

 

“To test if you’re really Bisexual or not. Since you aren’t sure and haven’t acted on it, then there’s no harm in finding out.”

  
Dean hesitated, but it didn’t take long for him to agree. Cas was just...Cas.

Castiel scooted closer, and Dean instantly knew where this was headed. Their backs straightened and Cas sheepishly wrapped an arm around Dean’s waist, tugging him closer. It was a little awkward, but it was quick to get used to feeling Cas’ touch all over again. The sides of their legs pressed against each other, and Castiel leaned in so that his lips just barely ghosted against Dean’s own. “Can I kiss you?” he asked in a hushed tone, hot breath warming Dean’s lips.

 

“Please.” Dean’s breath was shaky, and that same warmness swirled all throughout his body. His voice had hitched when he spoke, and he could feel the gentleness of Cas’ free hand cupping his jaw and bringing him closer, their lips soon pressing together in sweet, sweet euphoria.

 

Kissing Cas felt like he had hung the moon. It was like he took off in a rocket and flew among the stars, sweeping his hands across the dotted blanket of galaxies and just drinking them in. It felt like he was a fresh rose, blooming for the first time. Kissing Castiel was like bathing in an oasis after roaming the Sahara desert for years on end. Dean didn’t even realize that both of their eyes had closed, and that their lips moved in sync, kissing the other delicately.

Dean’s heart skipped beats, his stomach leaping and rolling over. His hands had reached up to cup Castiel’s face in his hands, but the feeling of Cas’ skin had pulled itself away, like he had scooped up some sand in the palms of his hands and slipping through his fingertips. 

 

“Well?” Cas’ voice was rough as he asked the question. He was almost nervous for Dean’s response. 

  
“Hand me a friggin’ pride flag,” and his lips were quickly back on Cas’, hands cupping his jaw and not letting him go.


	5. Was that Yours? Oops.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean tries to repress the homo, but the homo is strong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT HAS BEEN SO LOOOONNNGGGG (only a week, but still) my grandfather came to visit for Spring Break and that was a complete adventure. He has Alzheimer's, so this was pretty much our whole "goodbye" to him because he won't remember us in like a year. Anyways, I didn't get ANY of the projects I was assigned done so oh well. I also didn't have time to work on this fic at all, which was truly a horrible thing. But hey, at long last I return with another installment!
> 
> And also, #SorryNotSorry for how this chapter ends, folks! Feel free to leave all the hate comments below <3

Dean didn't know a lot of things; quantum physics, how to ride a unicycle, and whatever the hell went through the brain of the first person to try cow's milk. However, Dean did know for a fact that kissing Castiel was something he could do for the rest of his small, meaningless lifetime. There was just something about the softness of his lips with the contrast of his scruff underneath Dean’s fingertips that sent a shiver down his spine. Once again, Dean was not one for knowing the time, but he was wholeheartedly convinced that the world was _definitely_ frozen, only to be melted when Castiel pulled away with a blush.

 

If he didn’t have any self control, Dean would’ve just inched closer and clash their lips together again. Unfortunately though, Cas’ interruption to swallow down more water was enough to keep him from just pulling them back together again. Cas glanced as he watched Dean look at him, soon blushing to the point where his ears turned pink.

 

“So uh, do you want a pride flag in bulk, blown up, or just in a frame?” Cas tried to tease, putting his glass back down.

 

Dean blushed even harder, if that was even possible at this point. “I think I’ll just get some purple frosting and call it a day.”

 

Castiel chuckled, scooting a bit closer, but trying not to invade Dean’s personal space. “So.”

 

“So.”

 

“That happened.”

 

“It did.”

 

“Di-Did you like it?”

 

Cas’ question came as a surprise to Dean, and he tilted his head. He figured that pulling him back into another kiss wasn’t a big enough _Hell Yeah!_ for him, so he smiled. “A lot Cas, a lot.”

 

Castiel blushed even more. “Good. I’m glad you did.”

 

It was silent, and Dean could quickly feel the uneasiness finally settle in. He had _really_ liked it. A lot. Much more than a lot, but he couldn’t just say that. How was he even supposed to put into words exactly what he felt when he and Cas kissed? Not to mention the underlying factor of Lisa, who was more than likely going to kill him for _cheating_ on her. The thought of her finding out made him shudder, and soon a large pair of arms wrapped around him into a squeeze.

 

“Are you cold?”

 

“Not anymore.”

 

Somehow, which Dean couldn’t even remember _how_ it happened, but it had anyway, he woke up the next morning with his back pressed against Castiel’s chest, limbs wrapping him into a cocoon. Cas must’ve been cold or something, because when Dean tried to get up, the grip around him tightened and he was brought back down. A muffled “no” was breathed into his ear, and ya know, he _might’ve_ smiled at hearing how deep and rough Cas’ morning voice was.

 

 _Might’ve_.

 

It was much more than a small smile. It was one of those huge, dorky ones that Lisa always said made him look younger. “Alright, pushy.” Dean grumbled, and he could feel Cas snuggle in closer. He wasn’t a morning person, apparently.

 

“I’m not pushy.” Castiel grumbled. His stubble scratched at Dean’s neck.

 

“Yeah, you are.” Dean smirked.

 

“Am not.”

 

“Are too.”

 

“Am not.”

 

Dean chuckled some. He rolled over as best as he could on the sofa to look over at Castiel, who was pouting at him.

 

“Are too.” Dean grinned.

 

Cas huffed, and in one strong motion, shoved Dean off of the sofa. With the loud thud came a cluster of laughter from the sofa, and Dean draped an arm over his forehead to feign being hurt. He groaned some, which made Castiel laugh louder, and Dean made a memo on his mental notepad to get Cas back for it.

 

“You’re the worst.” came a grumble from the floor.

 

“The _worst_ ? I thought I was _pushy_.”

 

“I just can’t win with you, can I?” Dean groaned, pushing his back off of the floor as Castiel grinned at him widely.

 

Castiel started to get up, stepping over Dean as he did. This was short lived though, since Dean felt the need to kick the back of Cas’ shin and send him face first into the carpeting. Dean quickly jumped up, scrambling to crawl on top of Cas while he was still down, using his body weight to keep him pinned. “Payback’s a bitch, isn’t it Cas?” Dean smirked triumphantly, which was quickly overthrown by Cas wiggling his hand from Dean’s grip and jabbing his elbow into his side.

 

That was when Cas took over and took a seat on Dean’s lap. _Bastard_.

 

“I wouldn’t know.” He answered calmly.

 

“Why are you so mean to me?” Dean pouted, making his voice shake as he did.

 

“Because as the most noble five-year-old on this playground, I must profess my love with other means of torture besides hair pulling and rock throwing. I must tackle you and assert my dominance.”

 

The way Cas said dominance...that couldn’t be considered...attractive. But it was, and soon another wave of “Holy shit, you’re actually cheating on Lisa.” flooded over him. Dean quickly kicked Castiel off of him and stood up, anxiously darting off to his bedroom and slamming the door closed.

 

“Dean?” Cas’ voice was worried, and he rushed over to the door. He tried to turn the knob, but it was locked. “Dean what’s wrong?”

 

Dean quickly shook his head, sliding down to the floor. He needed to think, and Castiel being distracting on the other side wasn’t going to be very helpful. “You need to go.” came an almost inaudible response.

 

“What?”

 

“Now, Cas. You need to leave.”

 

“Dean,” Cas was torn. On the one hand, he wanted to respect Dean’s wishes, but on the other hand, Dean’s wishes were stupid and he clearly needed to talk about _something_.

 

“Now!” Dean snapped, banging his fist against the door. It had surprised Castiel, and he quickly booted out of Dean’s apartment.

 

About an hour later of just sitting on the floor, Dean got up. He went over to Clothes Mountain™ and pulled out a red flannel, along with some jeans. He then sauntered into the bathroom and showered, soon deciding to just lay down in the tub and let the water roll over him. Dean ended up taking a plug and starting a bath, plopping one of Lisa’s scented bath bombs into the water. He would ignore the glitter that came from the pink, and purple, and orange, but would need an alibi to confirm that he wasn’t hanging out anywhere where he wasn’t supposed to be.

 

Dean’s head started to swarm. He didn’t want to cheat on his girlfriend, but there was something just so intriguing about Castiel. The way that he didn’t even think twice to getting on a bus and coming over. But Lisa was usually there for him too. She would take care of him when he was sick, or watch some kind of movie because she knew it would make him happy. She was a good girlfriend, and yes, she was gorgeous inside and out, but Dean had never felt _anything_ like he did when he was around Cas. _Feelings were stupid._

 

Truth be told, he wouldn’t have gotten out of his bathtub if it weren’t for his phone ringing. The tune of ‘ **_RED ALERT: YOUR MOTHER IS CALLING_ ** ’ had jolted him from his relaxation, and quickly had him splashing out of the tub to answer the call.

 

“Mom!?”

 

“Hey honey, did you get my letter?”

 

“You sent me a letter?”

 

“Yes! I even used my good stationary!”

 

“You do realize you can just text me, right?”

 

“When was the last time you answered one of my texts since you started being friends with Castiel?”

 

“It hasn’t been that long.”

 

“Have children. Then you’ll realize that not hearing from your crotchfruit feels like forever.”

 

“Gross!”

 

Mary paused to chuckle, listening over the receiver to Dean’s fake gagging sounds. “Anyways, I need you to come in today and…”

 

“I can’t, mom.”

 

“You what?”

 

“I just-I can’t come in today.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“You wouldn’t understand.”

 

“Did something happen with Castiel?”

 

How could she not get the hint to butt out of the conversation!? He was a man! One day she will understand that not everyone talks about their feelings. In fact, he was pretty good at repressing all of his issues. It’s how he dealt with things!

 

“Everything’s fine.”

 

“He didn’t even look for you this morning.” she admitted.

 

“He looks for me?”

 

“You didn’t _know!?_ ”

 

“Of course not!” Dean felt his heart flutter, and he could easily get the sense that he was turning into a teenaged girl whenever it came to talking about him. “Whatever, quit stalling! I just can’t come into work today.”

 

Mary huffed on the other end, but eventually gave in. She’d be taking it out of his paycheck anyways.

 

After going on and off with “I love you’s” and “you’re still Mommy’s boy, aren’t you?” Dean was able to hang up. In the time he was conversing with his mother, he had air dried, so now all he would need to do is pull on some clothes. He did so quickly, shooting Lisa a quick text.

 

 **Sent to: the Side-Chick** _(it was an inside joke between them) **  
**_

**9:00**

**Wanna be bad and skip school w/me?**

 

**Received**

**9:01**

**Thought you’d never ask ;)**

Dean drove over to Lisa’s house after he had received the text from her. Maybe he really was just going insane and just needed someone to ground him. All he would have to do is kiss Lisa and everything would be fine again. Wasn’t that how it worked?  

He pulled into Lisa’s driveway, smiling at her as she waved to him from her front porch. She was wearing a knee-length flowy lilac dress (an A-line cut as he had learned from previous shopping adventures), with flowers going up the skirt and along the left side. She also had a brown belt around her waist, and a white crochet cardigan around her shoulders. When Dean had parked, Lisa ran up to the passenger side and slid in, grinning at him widely.

“So, what sort of illness do you have today?” Dean chuckled, leaning in and trying not to focus on thinking about Castiel.

“A really bad migraine.” Lisa informed him, leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to Dean’s cheek before putting her seatbelt on.

“Well, you still look as beautiful as ever with a migraine.”

Lisa chuckled.

“So, what’s the POD, Captain?” Lisa asked, watching as Dean started the Impala and pulled out from her driveway.

“I was thinking we could go get some breakfast and then plan from there.”

Lisa agreed.

**  
  
  
**

Dean was able to secure a booth by a window. The smell of freshly brewed coffee was enough to make him drool, granted, he hadn’t eaten yet this morning. Lisa had taken the seat in front of him while he took the opposite. Menus were placed in front of them, and they both started to flip through them.

The waitress came and left, taking their orders with her. Dean couldn’t even remember what he ordered, because he would’ve sworn on his life that he saw Cas walking on the sidewalk outside. He had quickly faded away, and Dean was sure he had officially lost it.

“So, what’s with the spontaneous skip day?” Lisa smiled, grabbing a few sugar packets to pour into her coffee when it arrived.

Dean shrugged. What was a delicate way of saying, ‘ _I’m just doing this to make sure I’m actually into you_ ’? “I just thought it would be a nice surprise. Get to steal you away from those little hellians for awhile.” he offered a smile. _That seemed to work just fine_.

“Uh huh, sure. Now tell me what horrible thing your mother wanted you to do at work today.” Dean might’ve used her to get out of a few work events every now-and-then.

“Dishes.” The usual excuse.

Lisa chuckled, and soon their drinks were placed in front of them. Lisa had doctored hers the way she liked it, while Dean went ahead and chugged down some orange juice. After the initial silence of drinking, Lisa leaned in to whisper to him, her eyes motioning to a woman who was waiting in line. “I hate her.” Lisa mumbled. _Surprise, surprise_.

“Which one of your earrings did she steal?” Dean joked, quickly getting slapped in the arm. Why was everyone so abusive in the morning?

“None! That I know of.” Lisa rolled her eyes at him. “She’s just a horrible woman. I was having a parent-teacher conference about her son since he was having some behavioral issues. Turns out, he came out to her and she’s been making him go through treatments.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “Treatments?”

Lisa nodded. “It’s the twenty-first century, there is no need to freak out if your child likes boys _and_ girls.”

Dean’s throat went dry. This woman’s kids was Bisexual too? And that’s how she treated her only son!? At least Lisa seemed to have more of a brain than this idiot.

The woman placed her order in and happened to look their way, obviously catching them talking about her. Their waitress had put their plates in front of them while Lisa thought quickly and pulled Dean into a kiss. Hopefully that would make this woman think they weren’t just talking about her.

The kiss seemed to last forever. Not in a pleasant way forever like with Castiel, but like Dean was stuck in math class and struggling to pay attention. Lisa pulled away when the woman looked away, a proud smirk on her face.

“Serves her right.” Lisa grumbled, picking up her napkin and spreading it on her lap. Dean had already started on his pancakes.

While Lisa and Dean ate quietly, Dean couldn’t help but notice the way that Lisa would glance behind him with a glare. He figured that the woman was just sending looks, because Lisa would _never_ instigate like this.

Dean ended up turning around, noticing the woman sending Lisa a death glare. This bitch was insane, and looked to be contemplating on coming over. He would quickly fix that. “Food here wasn’t anything special, right?” he asked, glancing over at Lisa, who seemed to be picking up on where he was going with this.

“Right.”

“So you wouldn’t be upset if we got banned?”

“Not at all.”

“Good.”

They both stood up, minding their manners as they squeezed between the tables to go pay for their breakfast. Dean had gone up to the woman after handing Lisa her wallet. He had a few choice words for her.

“You wanna explain why you’re giving my girlfriend the stink eye?” Dean asked straightforwardly.

The woman then turned her glare to him. “What’s it to you?”

“What’s it to me!?” Dean chuckled, acting like she was funny. “She’s my girlfriend, and you’re putting your son through torture to correct something that doesn’t need fixing.”

“It’s just a phase.”

If Dean had a dollar for every time he heard that, he’d be able to send her to therapy and get her ancient beliefs fixed. “It really isn’t, though.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Don’t tell me how to raise my son. You don’t even have one, what would you know?”

A chorus of, “oooh hELL NOs” rang in Dean’s head, and suddenly he was grabbing the woman’s coffee and splashing it on her dumb neatly-pressed, probably dry cleaned outfit.

  
She screamed, of course, and Dean was quick to put on a sarcastic, sympathetic tone. “Was that yours? Oops.” He shrugged simply, grinning as Lisa came up behind him and locked her arm with his strolling out of the shop with him.

For the remainder of the day, Dean and Lisa just cruised around. It was mainly just stopping at different craft stores since Lisa was adamant that she wasn’t going to pick it up. Dean gave it a month, tops, because she was never good at being crafty, and hated not being amazing on her first attempt. If anything, she would probably get aggravated and return everything.

 

They ate at some diner; Dean couldn’t pronounce the name. He wasn’t very responsive for the rest of the day, because everywhere he looked he swore he saw Cas. On the side of the road, in different stores, window shopping. The dude was everywhere! Everywhere and nowhere, because he would just fly away in the wind. And Dean was left to count all of the instances in which he thought he saw the somewhat shorter man. 

 

Dean’s adventurous evening ended at eleven...or so he thought. When he was finally able to make it up to his apartment, Castiel was waiting for him. He had a small brown package in hand, and a container of something else in the other. Castiel smiled a huge, gummy grin at him, and Dean’s heat nearly leapt from his chest.

 

“What’cha doing here, Cas? It’s late.” Dean approached, pulling his keys out of his pocket. 

 

“I’ve got something for you.” Castiel responded, looking proud as ever. Dean couldn’t help but feel his heart melt. He unlocked the door and welcomed Castiel inside, the remains of the night before still needing to be cleaned up, but they ignored that for now.

 

“For me?” Dean asked, closing the door once they were both inside. They walked over to the dining room table and took a seat. Cas was practically glowing when he delicately put the package in front of him. Dean felt nervous, but Cas reassured that a giant spider wasn’t about to jump out and attack him.  _ Which only made him feel nervous that a giant spider WAS about to attack him _ . 

 

Without anymore hesitation, Dean tore the package open. He pulled out a white, small box from inside and eyed it suspiciously. He then picked the tape off and pulled the flap back. He reached inside, and pulled out a pink, purple, and blue fabric. Upon unfolding it, it was a small flag, and Dean could feel himself getting hotter the longer his blush prolonged. “You got me a pride flag?” he chuckled softly,  _ slightly _ misty eyed, but Cas didn’t need to know. 

 

“That’s not all!” Castiel exclaimed. He put the container in front of him as well, and Dean snapped the lid off. The container had half-risen, not baked all the way cupcakes with purple frosting slathered on top of them. They had black sprinkles on the top, which Dean only assumed could have been hand placed by Cas. 

 

Though they weren’t edible, Dean appreciated the gesture. He looked over at Castiel, who was practically radiating.

 

“I know that accepting yourself can be hard, Dean. I figured that maybe this would help you out a bit.”

 

And just then, Dean started crying. Not crying-- _ sobbing _ . Because he was finally able to work through his feelings. Because he could tell just how much work and trouble Castiel had gone through to make sure that all of this would be perfect. The poor guy probably paid extra to have the flag ready that day. 

 

“Dean!? What’s wrong? Do you hate it? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you! I thought you would like it!”

  
Dean shook his head, and when he was finally able to speak, he said; “I have a girlfriend, Cas.  _ I have a girlfriend _ .”


	6. You have a Girlfriend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean realizes who he wants to be with, but doesn't want to hurt anyone's feelings. So, thanks to the Charlie Bradbury official website, he is able to find a compromise.

Castiel took Dean’s hand, patting it gently. He wasn’t sure why Dean had started crying, but then again, he had done it when they were at the bakery. Maybe he just needed someone. Girlfriends could be great and all, but having a friend made life just a little easier. 

 

Dean couldn’t help it. At all. Because in this moment, he knew who he wanted to be with. He wanted to wake up every morning pressed against Castiel. He wanted to feel Cas’ scruff on his chin whenever they kissed. He wanted to be cuddled up next to him on the couch every Friday evening for movie night. He wanted to feel Cas’ long arms wrap around him and hold him close. And if that meant that he’d have to let Cas use his head for flower crown sizing, then sobeit. 

 

Castiel didn’t even know all of this. He probably didn’t even feel the same way. They really hadn’t known each other for that long, and this whole demi-whatever meant that strong bonds needed to be formed. Was their bond strong? Dean didn’t know. And soon, he wouldn’t care, because those same big arms came up behind him and held him close. 

 

“Do you want to talk this out?”

 

Dean nodded.

 

Castiel helped Dean from the dining room chair and led him to the couch. Dean instinctively curled against Cas when he sat down, the feeling of him just being comfortable. “I don’t want to hurt her, Cas.” he tried to explain, looking up at him with misty eyes.

 

“Why would you hurt her?” Castiel asked smoothly, rubbing Dean’s back.

 

How hard would it be to say ‘Because I want to be with you?’ Not hard for most people, but apparently the hardest damn thing to say if your name was Dean Winchester. “Because I realize now that I wasn’t ever in love with her like I thought I was.”

 

Castiel hummed softly. “Well, you really can’t help the way you feel. Can you?” Dean shook his head. “Then if she’s a mature adult, she won’t be too upset. We aren’t teenagers, Dean.” 

 

“But what if she cries?”

 

“There’s a good chance that she will.” Cas conceded. “But you seem to be a caring guy. You were probably the best man that she’s ever been with. Besides, you’re a catch. You could easily seduce your way into the heart of whomever yours is after.”

 

Dean sighed, nodding to himself. He had stopped crying, but wouldn’t mind shedding a few more tears if it meant that he could stay in Cas’ arms for a little bit longer. Then, something clicked inside of him, and he shot up. Cas said he was a  _ catch _ ! A Catch! He might not have been from the 50s, but from all of the movies he had seen, he knew that that meant he was a fine piece of ass. “I’m a catch, huh?” he climbed onto Cas’ lap, eyes looking at him innocently.

 

Cas seemed to know where this was going, and his breath hitched in his throat. “Yes.”

 

“And I could seduce my way into the heart of whoever mine is after?”

 

“I said whomever, but yes.”

Dean flushed pink, as did Castiel. “What about yours then?” 

 

Cas blossomed underneath Dean. Just like the roses that Cas tended to in the shop every morning. He tried to bow his head, to hide the blush that spread from his cheeks like a wildfire. His whole face was red, all the way to the tip of his ears. Dean took this as his chance to  _ finally _ be Mr. Suave and tilted Cas’ chin up with his index finger.

 

“I suppose you could.” Cas mumbled, his blue eyes shining up at Dean’s. Maybe that was just because the light was hitting his face the right way, he didn’t know. 

 

Dean’s lips curled up, and he gently settled so that he straddled Castiel’s lap. Their faces were barely inches apart, but that didn’t stop them from slowly coming together, just like in the movie. Their lips pressed together softly, hands sliding to the other’s chest. Their lips moved in sync, and Dean was convinced that if Heaven was real, he was kissing an angel. 

 

Cas was the first to pull away, panting slightly. He didn’t have much experience in the kissing department, so he lost his breath rather quickly. Dean, on the other hand, looked as if he had met God himself. He was astonished at how kissing someone could make him want to do backflips. 

 

“Suppose?” Dean teased, watching Cas catch his breath. 

 

“You could, definitely.” Cas grinned, flashing Dean a pearly white smile. 

 

Dean met his grin, pulling him in for one last kiss before sinking next to him on the couch. He thought for a moment, and then something inside of him clicked and he was up, grabbing his laptop and sitting back next to Castiel. He opened the lid, and after his screen loaded, he typed in the Charlie Bradbury website and scrolled through the website, pointing when he found.

 

**POLYAMOROUS RELATIONSHIP- BEGINNER’S GUIDE**

 

Castiel looked as confused as ever, and Dean turned so he could explain. “Maybe I don’t  _ have _ to break up with her!” Cas wasn’t buying this. “What if the three of us dated! That way I could be with you, and I wouldn’t have to break up with her.”

 

“That’s not how this works, Dean.” Cas tried to explain. 

 

Dean’s face fell. “What do you mean?”

 

Cas moved the laptop and pointed at the guidelines down below it.

 

 

  * __Communication. After you and your partners have given each other consent, you will need to be able to communicate extremely well. To have a healthy relationship, every partner needs to feel included. If one feels that only two are more involved, this can lead to jealousy, and will make the relationship toxic. Another thing to note is that if you all do not feel the same way about each other, I wouldn’t recommend getting together. This will make your relationship messy, and will end up in a horrible breakup.__



 

 

Dean groaned. “Well what am I supposed to do, Cas?” 

 

“Not beat around the bush, for starters.” Castiel responded. “You’re either with her, or you’re not, Dean. Just because you’re afraid of breaking up with her doesn’t mean that jumping into a three person relationship will make everything better!”

 

Dean’s eyebrows furrowed at that. Who was Cas to talk to him that way!? “I am not afraid of breaking up with her!”

 

“Seems like it to me. Besides, I’m not one for sharing. I haven’t even been on a date with you yet. How am I supposed to know if there’s even something between us!? You’re asking too much out of me.”

 

Alright fine, that was a good point. But Dean wouldn’t admit it. “But you kiss me like your mind is pretty made up.” Dean disputed. 

 

“Just because I like you, it doesn’t mean that I’m going to do as you say. I have a mind of my own, Dean. I have a heart too. And I’m not going to get into a relationship with someone who I don’t know--or  _ like _ for that matter!”

 

“What do you care?” Dean spat. “You’re not going to have sex with us anyways!”

 

Cas’ jaw dropped. “You did not just make this about sex.”

 

“I did.”

 

Castiel stood up. “I’m leaving.”

 

Dean got up as well. “Why? Because I brought up sex? We’re adults, aren’t we Cas?”

  
“I came over here to surprise you with something and this is what I get in return?  _ Seriously, _ Dean?” Cas walked to the door and unlocked it. “I was just trying to be a good friend, and your fear of making a girl cry is making you act out. Face your problems, then come talk to me.” Castiel walked out and slammed the door behind him, leaving Dean to stand there by himself. He was such an  _ idiot _ . 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a disclaimer, I am not polyamorous myself, or have ever been in this type of relationship. Though I have tried to educate myself on how to properly represent the relationship, there is only so much truth to the internet. If anyone who has read this chapter feels that I depicted it in the wrong way, please message me and inform me, as I would not want to misrepresent anybody or make this out to be a bad thing.   
> Also, I know that having Lisa in the relationship will make it toxic. Dean clearly wants to be with Cas, but having Lisa there will make the relationship not work. He doesn't want to hurt her feelings, but she won't take it harshly.


	7. The Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean makes his choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO MY SWEET CHILDREN I AM FINALLY BACK AFTER SEVERAL AGES! In my defense, I had AP testing and I have reached my limit of how much I can handle at school. 
> 
> This chapter is more of a shorter filled chapter, but leads into the Destiel fluff (mainly because I'm too lazy to draw it out lol whoops)
> 
> I have 2 full weeks of school left and then finals. Once I'm on summer break, expect more frequent updates!

Eight weeks, sixty days, 1,460 hours, 87600 minutes. That’s the time it took for Dean to really sort through everything, and he counted it the entire time. It was the middle of November, and he could feel the dread bubble up in his stomach at having to drive to work. For two months, Castiel and Dean avoided each other’s gaze. Sure, they occasionally stole a glance or two, but they’d always dart their attention somewhere else if they were caught by the other. Dean would watch Castiel leave early so he wouldn’t have to run into him. That, or he would leave way later than Dean just to make sure that the coast was clear. But Dean knew, he always did.

Because even if Cas didn’t want to talk to him, Dean would still worry about him. Even if Cas didn’t want to return his calls, Dean would still pick up the phone and give him a ring. Even if Castiel tried to move far, far away, Dean would walk over the edge of the earth if it meant he’d find him. Because when you’re in love, the time you spend alone seems much lonelier. When you’re in love, you’d give anything to put a smile back on your partner’s face, and that’s what Dean wanted to do.

In the two months they spent apart, Lisa had broken up with Dean. She could tell that his heart just wasn’t in it anymore, that he was distant. He’d squint out of the window and just watch the people walk by. He’d point out the same damn man in a trenchcoat, and Lisa was sure he had lost his damn mind. She’d constantly hear about some guy with scruffy hair following them, or how he stopped to smell the flowers or take a picture of one. Whenever she would look, he was never there. Dean wasn’t broken hearted when they broke up, that was a given. His mind was elsewhere, and it was painfully.

Eventually, Cas’ stereo silence got the better of Dean, and he was going to fix it once and for all. It was almost closing time on Castiel’s end of the street, and Dean wasn’t going to let him get away. Dean had baked an ‘I’m sorry I was an asshole’ cake for him, shaped like a sunflower. On the leaves of the sunflower was a special message for him, and Dean was hoping they would be able to move forward from then on. Mustering up the courage, Dean strutted across the street and walked into the flower shop, watching as Cas pushed the register closed with an inquisitive look. 

“Hi.” Dean smiled shyly, tightening his grip on the platter that held the cake.

“Hello.” came the bemused response. 

“I uh,” Dean paused and cleared his throat. “I’m so sorry, Cas. I was a complete dick, and I know that I took you for granted. I shouldn’t have said what I said and I feel horrible.” 

Castiel nodded slowly so Dean would know he understood. “Is that a cake?”

“Yes.”

“What kind?”

“A ‘sorry I was an asshole’ cake.” 

Castiel chuckled. “Tell you what, if it’s good, we can put all of this behind us and start fresh.”

Dean smiled softly and walked closer to the counter, gently putting it down. He undid the clasps and removed the lid of the container, presenting the cake to him. Cas studied the cake, probably searching for something inconsistent with the design, but soon landed on the leaves.

‘Date Friday?’

Cas’ face blossomed a rosey pink, quickly followed by a blush on Dean’s own. “I choose you, Cas.” he mumbled quietly, just before being pulled into a hungry kiss. 

When they had finally pulled apart, they were both panting heavily. “So, we can start off fresh?” Dean asked nervously. 

Castiel held a hand out to him. “My name is Castiel.”

Dean chuckled and shook his head. “I’m Dean. Say, Castiel is pretty long. Do you have something shorter, like a nickname? Is it something cool like C-dawg, maybe Cas even?” 

Castiel chuckled after him. “Cas will do.”

Dean’s face shone. “So, I’ll pick you up after work on Friday?”

“And not a minute later.” Castiel conceded. 

They stood there, smiling at each other awkwardly before they parted ways. Dean had made his way to the door, and Castiel was snapping the lid back on the cake to save for later. “Hey, Dean?” he called.

Dean paused and looked over his shoulder. “Yes?”

 

“You’re forgiven. Just so you know.”

Dean blushed even harder and walked out, crossing the street with a spring in his step.


	8. Roadhouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel go on their date
> 
> ANNOUNCEMENT AT THE END NOTES!

The week seemed to drone on forever. The time that had passed felt just like their two month interval, and Dean had become antsy with each lingering second. He couldn’t sleep very well, and would constantly try to spend his time in the back checking inventory. It was just something that passed the time, but eventually, Friday evening came. Dean, bless his soul, had quickly become a nervous wreck. Mary had put her two cents in, but ultimately, a cloud of doom rained over him. He couldn’t take Castiel out while he was all sweaty! He wanted to make a lasting impression! Cas liking him meant a lot, and he still felt incredibly guilty about the whole living room incident. He had been forgiven, but it still haunted him more than ever. So, with Mary’s help (and an overabundance of hair gel--why it was kept at the bakery, Dean didn’t know) he went from “Want a ride on my tractor?” to “Your sister’s prom date” in an America’s Next Top Model elimination minute.

 

Mary had Dean wholeheartedly convinced that she was a magician;  well, her tailor at least. Rowena had come faster than Dean ever had during his high school glory days, and was quick to find the perfect suit for him. Of course, he had used her services before for funerals and such, but this was a _completely_ different scenario. His mother had fixed his necktie while Rowena polished his shoes, and after a few run throughs of extra gel through his hair, he was ready.

 

“You look just like you did when you took Dorothy to prom.” Mary smiled, wiping away a dramatic tear.

 

“Hopefully my date won’t throw up on me like she did.” Dean teased back, though the permanent scars from that memory made his body shiver.

 

Mary chuckled. “Well, then your future children won’t be terrified of their first dates.”

 

“Mom!”

 

“What?”

 

“Don’t jinx us!”

 

Mary’s face turned red as she watched Dean blossom at the thought of him and Cas having a future. “You better get going. You don’t want to be late.”

 

Dean kissed Mary’s cheek and pulled Rowena in for a hug. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” he sighed, and after fixing his jacket for the fifth time, he strolled out and across the street.

 

Castiel was finishing up with one final customer. He kept a warm smile on his face, but it was quite obvious that the customer pushed his buttons. It’s not like she was trying to be a pain, but Cas’ mind was so far away from work, that he just nodded and avoided all of her questions. Eventually, she left the shop with a pot of lilacs, and Dean entered with a grin. “I’ve a chariot ordered for one Caz-tea-elle Novak.” he stated, pretending that he was some posh, French chauffeur.

 

Cas looked up from the register, first confused at the accent Dean had decided to go with, and then a wide grin was pulling at the corners of his lips.”You can just call me Cas.” he blushed, stepping around the counter.

 

“Non. Monsieur Winchester waz vewy adamant about me making suwe youw wide to ze restaurant was tré magnifique.” Dean waved his hand in a circular motion before holding it out for Castiel to take.

 

Cas’ cheeks were flushed red, but he approached Dean and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Well, he really didn’t need to order a chauffeur.” He blushed, feeling Dean squeeze his hand back.

 

“He insisted.” Dean smiled, leading Cas toward the front door and held it open for him. Cas couldn’t keep himself from smiling fondly, but had to break their handhold while he locked the shop up for the evening. When the door was locked, Dean took his hand again and led him to the Impala.

 

“So, Dean can hire a chauffeur, but the chauffeur can’t pull the car up to the side of the street?” he teased lightly.

 

“Monsieur Winchester didn’t want to get a parking ticket.” Dean answered with a grin, lightly swinging their hands as they walked.

 

The men got to the Impala (which Dean had made sure she had a wax on his lunch break) and pulled the passenger door open for Castiel. He smiled as Cas slid in, noticing a red box waiting for him in his seat. He held it up in questioning, but Dean winked and closed the door, dashing to slip into the driver’s seat. “Eet iz a gift from Monsieur. At his request, he’d like you to forget that it was in your seat because his dumbass forgot to hide it.”

 

Castiel had to bite down on his cheeks to keep himself from laughing. “Should I act surprised when he gives it to me?” he asked, putting it in the backseat.

 

“Oui.” Dean turned the Impala on and started driving them to the restaurant. Neither of them had said anything, but their hands did find their way together. Cas had his head pressed against the window, watching the world go by, soon turning his head to look at Dean. “So, what’s he like?”

 

Dean’s lips pursed as he thought about how to respond. “An amazing lover.” he made kissey noises. “Zuper handzome, you are one lucky man.” he turned to grin at Cas. “Very-how do you zay eet?-Mah-cho. Incredibly large penis.”

 

Castiel fell into a laughing fit, and Dean was convinced that he had won the lottery. Cas was the type of guy you just couldn’t help falling in love with. His smile could cure cancer, his laugh could solve any problem, and his eyes were sure to make any ocean jealous. “I meant it as in, what is his personality like?”

 

Dean nodded knowingly. “Vell, he is vewy in touch with hiz emotions.” he tried to think more about how to describe himself. How would he even go about that? “He twies to be womantic, but things usually don’t go well fow him.” Castiel squeezed his hand again to urge him to continue. “Zhats all I have. He just hiwed me today.”

 

Cas giggled some, turning his attention to the front window. They were at some diner, Dean was way overdressed, but he parked anyways. He reached back and grabbed the red box, sliding out of his seat and rushing to open Cas’ door. He grinned widely, helping pull Cas out and wrapped his free arm around Castiel’s waist. “Glad you could make it. I trust your ride was comfortable?”

 

Castiel could feel his eyes roll to the back of his head. “It was lovely, and a very nice touch.” They walked silently to the front door, Dean once again pulling it open for him. Castiel stepped in, and they were greeted by a dirty blonde hostess.

 

“Reservation for James Hetfield.” Dean smiled, and the waitress rolled her eyes.

 

“Right this way, Dean.” she smirked, and grabbed a couple of menus. She lead the pair to a circular booth, putting the menus down on the table. “Jo will be with you shortly.” the hostess reassured, and Dean motioned for Castiel to sit down first. He slid in, Dean following after, making sure that there wasn’t any space between them. Castiel didn’t seem to mind.

 

Castiel picked the menus up and handed one over to Dean, smiling when he saw how close they were. “James Hetfield?” he questioned, watching a grin light up his date’s face as he turned to look over at him.

 

“He’s the-”

 

“-lead singer of Metallica, yes, I know.” Castiel cut him off, and Dean was convinced he was the world’s most perfect man. “But why didn’t you just leave them your name?”

 

Dean smiled at him. “Because, I don’t want the government tracking me.” He stated simply.

 

“Is that why you still use a Nokia?”

 

“It’s indestructible! Meanwhile, your ass is gonna drop your lame iPhone and the screen is going to break.”

 

“Not true! I have a case on it!” He pulled it out from his pocket and presented it to Dean. It was a simple lime green color with an Andy Warhol banana in the middle.

 

Dean pretended to examine the phone case, shaking his head and tsk’ing while Castiel rolled his eyes. Their waitress appeared then, a bright smile on her face. “Welcome to the Roadhouse! My name is Jo, and I’ll be your waitress this evening. Could I get you something to drink?”

 

Dean nudged Cas’ side softly, letting him order his drink first. “I’ll just have a beer.” he answered sweetly, turning to Dean, who ordered the same.

 

“Great! I’ll be right back with those!” she took a step back and turned on her heel, heading off into the kitchen. Cas looked back over at Dean, who had already been captured in a fond look. They stared at each other for awhile, just smiling. It might’ve been odd to anyone looking at them, but the moment would forever be seared into their hearts. And then, as if they were two magnets, their lips came crashing together, moving in sync. Dean’s arms had wrapped around Cas’ waist while Cas’ wrapped around Dean’s neck. They pushed and pulled together like the tide, gravitating toward each wave of bliss that radiated from one simple press of their lips.

 

Cas and Dean didn’t part until Jo cleared her throat. Their cheeks had instantly gone dark red, and given by the way their chests rose and fell, they needed a break for air sooner rather than later. Jo shot them a smirk, slapping some coasters on the wooden table and setting their drinks on top. “Are you ready to order?” she giggled, “or should I just leave you to eat each other?”

 

“Shut up, Harvelle. We’re saving that for the third date.” Dean kept an arm around Castiel’s waist, though Cas had removed his from around Dean’s neck.

 

“This is your first date?” She gasped in surprise, eyes widened.

 

“Officially.” Cas chimed in to confirm.

 

“You two kiss like porn stars. I’m surprised.” she puckered her lips and sent Cas a serious face. “Don’t you dare sleep with him! Preserve your innocence!”

 

Dean pulled Castiel even closer to his side. “You’re our waitress, you can’t be talking to us like this!” he smirked, and Jo would’ve slapped him if her mother hadn’t shot her a glare.

 

“We’re friends. I’m allowed to test your dates to see if they’re worth it.” she turned to Castiel. “No offense.”

 

He shrugged. “None taken.”

 

Jo pulled a notepad and pen out from her pocket while Dean sent Castiel an apologetic look. Cas just smiled in response, making Dean feel slightly relieved.  “So, are you ready to order, or should I come back in an hour?”

 

Castiel grinned at her. “I’ll take the biggest burger you have, extra pickles and a large side of onion rings.” he put his menu on top of Dean’s while Jo stared at him in shock.

 

“Did you two plan this?” She asked, eyes squinted in suspicion.

 

“Nope.” Dean popped the “P.”

 

Jo didn’t buy it, but she kept her opinions to herself. She scribbled down their orders, knowing that Dean’s usual was exactly what Castiel ordered, only with french fries instead of onion rings. She took the menus and walked off, Dean quickly explaining that Jo knew what he usually got so Cas wouldn’t freak out.

 

Now it came time for the small talk, which wasn’t Dean’s expertise, but thankfully it was Cas’. Seriously, he was perfect. “So, remember that whole robbery thing over at the flower shop?” he asked, taking a sip of his beer.

 

“I vaguely recall you mentioning that a few times.” Dean snickered.

 

That Wednesday the Flower Shop had been robbed, or so Castiel thought. He had arrived early to work, just as he usually did, and saw that the front window had been broken. Some potting soil was strewn everywhere, pots were broken, and several flowers had been mangled. It was horrible, and he had just gotten those flowers ready for selling!

 

“Well, I finally got the footage.” he told Dean, who was listening intently.

 

“And?” he inquired.

 

Castiel chuckled softly and shook his head, almost not believing what he was about to say. “An old lady was window shopping with her cat in her purse. Apparently it smelled the catnip and tried to get at it. Something with the speed knocked her into the window, and her elbow broke through the glass. Her cat jumped through and had a fiesta.”

 

Dean laughed. Full on laughed. It wasn’t even that funny, but the way Castiel affected him made that the funniest thing in the world. “So you were essentially robbed by a cat!?” Dean chuckled.

 

“I always knew they were evil.” he spat, though he said it in a way that made it come across as a joke.

 

Dean sighed fondly, looking at Cas with complete adoration. “You’re perfect, you know that?”

“Yep!” Cas smirked, popping the “P” just as Dean had done before. “Sooo…” his eyes flickered to the red box that was seated on the other side of Dean. “Your chauffeur who kind of sounded like a cheap Dracula cosplayer said you wanted to give me something.”

 

“He did not sound like Dracula!” Dean defended, but he grabbed the box and handed it to Castiel. “But the giving you something was definitely right.” he smiled proudly, watching as Cas blushed and slowly pulled the tape down. When the tape was off, he lifted the top of the box of and picked up the item.

 

“I know it’s not the best,” Dean sighed. “But you always have one, and you make it look so easy, so I thought I’d give it a shot. All I got was cut by the thorns though.” He had made Castiel a flower crown out of white roses. The stems poked out, the actual flower buds were on opposite sides of each other, and the leaves were barely hanging on by a thread.  It wasn’t perfect, as was all of Dean’s other arts and crafts projects, but the meaning was there.

 

“It’s beautiful.” Castiel reassured him, and gently placed it on his head.

 

“You’re just being nic-” Dean was caught off by another kiss.

 

When they pulled apart, they were both glowing. “I have an idea.” he pulled his phone out and clicked on the camera app. He flipped the screen so that it would face them, and he held his phone out so they’d both be in the picture. He took a couple just to make sure they wouldn’t get a blurry one and pulled his gallery up to examine the photos. “It looks great in pictures. I say you did a job well done.” he smiled up at Dean, who was staring contently at the photo.

 

“We look like a couple of goofs.”

 

It was true, they did. Out of all the other people in the diner, they were the only ones not wearing a plaid button down and jeans. Dean had on his monkey suit while Cas was still in his work clothes, wearing a flower crown that looked like a five year old made it. But they were both smiling proudly for the photo, and even though they looked like goofs, they looked like goofs together.

 

“At least we’re attractive goofs.” Castiel stated, and Dean conceded.

 

A comfortable silence fell between them. Mainly because they were still admiring the photo. It was something small, simple even, but for some odd reason that was the best photo Dean had ever seen in his life. Their burgers soon came, interrupting their cherished stares. They dug in, grinning at how ridiculous the other had looked with their mouth full, and had a mini food fight by throwing french fries and onion rings at each other. Jo had stopped by to place the check on the table, which Dean quickly snatched out of Cas’ reach.

 

“Dean, I can pay for myself.” Cas informed him, taking his wallet out from his pocket.

 

Dean only shook his head. “I invited you, so I’m paying.”

 

Cas’ nose wrinkled. “But I have money, I can handle my half of it.”

 

Dean’s index finger booped his nose, followed by pulling some cash from his own wallet. “I’ve got it.” he reassured, and stuffed the cash into the pocket of the check book. “Ready to go?” he smiled.

 

“I suppose.” he hummed, sliding out from the booth. Dean slid out from the opposite side and held his hand out for Dean to take. “Nope.” Cas stated firmly, making him pout.

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because you didn’t let me pay my half.” he huffed, beginning to walk down the walkway. Dean followed closely behind him, trying his hardest not to laugh.

 

“I’m just trying to be a gentleman.” Dean explained, catching a glimpse of a grin on Cas’ lips.

 

The pair walked out to the Impala, Dean opening all of the doors that came between them. Castiel continued his act of being annoyed, but they both knew that it was just that. Dean ended up driving Cas home, being invited up for a drink when they had parked. So, Dean got out, and he let Cas hold his hand while he led him to the elevator up to his apartment.

 

“For someone who is so broken over not paying their half of the tab, you sure like to hold my hand.” Dean teased, followed by Castiel unlocking the door to his apartment.

 

“Oh shut up.” Cas grinned, pushing the door open and leading Dean inside.

 

Cas’ apartment was decked out in all sorts of flowers and artwork. He had an easel with some dried paint dripping down the side, a large bookshelf stacked to the brim with books, a few polaroids shoved off to the side, and some boxes stacked throughout his apartment. “Sorry for the mess, I just haven’t had the time to throw those boxes out.” he blushed, closing the door behind Dean.

 

“It’s not a problem.” Dean smiled, approaching one of the paintings that Cas had hung on the wall. “You make this?” it was Starry Night, only painted in true Warhol fashion.

 

“Yep.” He chuckled walking beside him. “I take a lot of inspiration from Warhol.”

 

“I can tell.” Dean smiled. “But what’s so great about him?”

 

Cas sent him a look that made it seem like he had just offended his entire ancestry. “How many artists do you know have videos of them on Youtube of just eating a hamburger!?”

“You’re lying, right?”

 

The way Castiel whipped his phone from his pocket argued otherwise, and soon him and Dean were huddled together on his (ridiculous) soft green couch watching Andy Warhol eat a hamburger. When the video ended, Dean looked down at Cas, to find him smiling proudly. “Wasn’t that amazing!?” he grinned, obviously teasing.

 

“It was...something.” Dean chuckled, eyes locking on Cas’. “Hey uhm, thanks for an awesome date.” he blushed.

 

“I really didn’t do much.” Castiel responded, smiling wider.

 

“You forgave me and let me have a second chance, even though I don’t deserve one.”

 

Cas pressed his finger to Dean’s lips. “That’s behind us. Okay?”

 

“Okay.”

 

He _was_ going to get Dean a drink. Or, at least fully intended to. It wasn’t Cas’ fault that Dean fake yawned and stretched his arm across his shoulders. And it especially wasn’t him who initiated another makeout session. How it even progressed to Dean laying on top of him while they made out was beyond him; yet here they were.

 

Dean hovered above Castiel, being careful to distribute his weight evenly and not crush him all at once. Dean’s hands were holding on Cas’ waist, keeping him steady while Cas’ arms draped lazily around his waist. Their lips moved slowly, taking in the other person’s taste. Dean’s tongue trailed along the part of Castiel’s lips; happily gaining entrance. His tongue ventured around Castiel’s mouth, lapping at the sides and roof, soon sliding against his tongue as well. Castiel sucked Dean’s bottom lip into his mouth as best he could, the two of them trying to make the other numb from their kiss. Dean’s hips instinctively rolled against Cas’ groin, but he was quickly stopped by a hand on his chest. “Still want that drink?”

 

Dean licked his lips and cleared his throat. “I uh-” he looked over at the clock in Cas’ living room. It was a cuckoo clock, painted like a barn. “I would actually prefer to continue doing this.” his smirked proudly, watching as Castiel’s eyes rolled.

 

“Nice try, Winchester, but I’m a good girl. You’ll have to profess your love for me through interpretive dance before you can slither underneath my dress.” He quipped back, slowly sitting up; Dean moving with him.

 

“Well shit!” Dean gasped. “To think I majored in slam poetry instead of interpretive mating dance.” he shook his head listening to the music that came from Cas’ laugh.

 

Castiel slid out from underneath him and into the kitchen, pouring them each a glass of cider. To make the presentation even fancier, he poured the cider into wine glasses, just to give Dean a sense of false hope. When the glasses were ready, Cas brought them out on his balcony, beckoning Dean over with a wave of the hand.

 

“Thank you, kind sir.” Dean hummed, taking a glass and clinking it to Cas’.

 

“No problem.” He chuckled, turning his head to look to the sky.

 

 

Dean stood silently, watching the stars twinkle overhead. There was something so intimate about standing on the balcony while the cars zoomed along the road beneath them. Everything was so quiet, yet chaotic all at once. He could hear his heart pounding, but the noise drowned the sound from Cas’ ears.

 

“Dean?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“I had a great time tonight.” Cas smiled softly, turning to look at him.

 

“Me too.”

 

“We should do it again.”

 

Dean’s cheeks reddened. “Yeah? Like when?”

 

Cas shrugged simply. “Tomorrow?”  


“Deal.”

 

 

And so they parted for the night. Dean slipped away into the night as the dew settled in for its early morning ritual. The Impala roared while he pulled slowly from his parking space, carrying him to his lonely apartment, just begging for something to disrupt it. Rather, someone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took two years of French and still can't properly write a French accent. Anyways, I hope this fluffy chapter makes up for the long awaited cuteness. I actually read a Destiel Youtuber work to get me in the fluffy mood. It was adorable, and if you want to check it out, it's called Hashtag Destiel...also was there too much kissing in this? My fear is that maybe there was 0.o
> 
> ANNOUNCEMENT:  
> Heyyooo party people! Guess what!?!? I am going to be taking WRITING REQUESTS! All you have to do is leave a comment stating who you want in the work (No OCs), any ships (cracks are v much welcomed bc I lowkey need to write some John Winchester x Mr Ketch like I already have an idea in mind), prompt (can be a specific dialog, material item, situational occurance, holiday, anything!) I will be creating a new work thingy where all of my requests will go, so keep an eye out for that (;


	9. Staying in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel rendezvous for their second date. Dean has a plan in mind, but apparently Kansas gets cold in November. Luckily, Cas has a better alternative.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took me about a million years to update this. Whoops. I know I'm a cunt, but please appreciate the Jake Paul meme. This chapter is also hella short because I felt like I owed you all something. So, like, I'm sorry! 
> 
> & your homegirl here has lowkey started a 50s themed Destiel fic but that isn't going to be posted for awhile. I guarantee it won't be heartbreaking though. I need Destiel fluff & smut just as much as you do, friend.
> 
> +Also, I dunno if anyone cares, but I started my senior year of high school and I'm trying to find my posting schedule with this again so please be patient! And as another side note, I started another fic with Twilight DeLucca called The Flat, which you should totally read. I'm also going to post a Sabriel fanfic that I may or may not continue depending on how many people like it.

 

 

**Received:**

**7:30 am**

**Good Morning (:**

 

**Sent:**

**8:00 am**

**Now it is ;)**

 

**Received:**

**8:01 am**

**Cheesy**

 

**Sent:**

**8:01 am**

**As someone who works with food, I am required to hold a certain number of cheese.**

 

**Received:**

**8:02 am**

**Dean, you’re a baker. I sincerely doubt that you bake with cheese**

**Sent:**

**8:03 am**

**That’s not a gouda comeback**

 

**Received:**

**8:10 am**

**I hate you.**

 

Dean chuckled at the response he had received. In the time that Castiel took to ignore him for his horrible cheese pun, Dean had gotten dressed. Nothing too fancy, he learned his lesson from last night; plus, he was cockily good looking if he said so himself. Besides, he had already wowed Castiel with his magnificent tuxedo the night before. Again, cocky.

 

**Sent:**

**8:15 am**

**Alright princess, what time should I come get you?**

 

Castiel could feel his eyes roll to the back of his head. Dean was such a sarcastic piece of shit, but he liked him, so he dealt with it. It’d be a lie to say he didn’t appreciate the cheese pun so early in the morning anyways, so he just left Dean hanging on the princess comment.

 

**Received:**

**8:16 am**

**I’m ready whenever you are**

 

 

 

**Sent:**

**8:16 am**

**Great! I have a mani-pedi scheduled at 9:30 and a crochet lesson at 11. Then I’m having lunch with the girls. Becky tends to get a little rambunctious after she drinks half a glass of wine, so us ladies will probably finish our lunch around 6. Then I have meditation for two hours. How about I come get you at 9?**

 

**Received:**

**8:16 am**

**Or you can come over right now and we can make out for awhile till your mani-pedi**

 

**Sent:**

**8:20 am**

**Already in the car**

Dean attached a photo of him with his seatbelt on after he had gotten in his Baby. He had a cocky smirk on his face, and made sure to get an angle that would compliment his jaw-line; not that he would need it. He immediately turned the heater up all of the way, forgetting completely that it was the middle of November in friggin’ Kansas! Apparently just the thought of being with Cas was enough to make Dean warm enough to fight off the snow.

 

On his journey, Dean stopped at a drive thru and picked up some coffee for them. He didn’t even know if Cas was one who liked the taste of it, but at the end of the day it would be a nice gesture. The cashier swiped his card and handed the hot drinks over, Dean thanking her for being so kind. Then, he was driving to Cas’ condo while trying not to skid on the ice. He pulled into the space from the night before and grabbed the cup holder of replacement mittens. He had to time it just right so that he wouldn’t have to bare the cold for very long. On a count of three he bolted out.

 

The double doors embraced him in a warm hug once he entered. Dean was more than thankful, and the bystanders surrounding him seemed to understand. The lobby looked much different now than at night. It seemed brighter, which came off as a huge go figure when he thought about it more. The white tile was polished, the welcome mat vacuumed. The receptionist was wiping the beige countertop off

 

Dean made sure to straighten himself out some before walking over to the counter, quickly being greeted with a warm smile from the receptionist. “I’m here to see Castiel Novak. My name is Dean Winchester.”

 

“One moment please, sir.” She smiled at him sweetly and picked up a phone. It was her job to make sure that the tenants accepted the guests before they were sent to their condos. Security purposes or something to that nature. Whatever it was, it was annoying, but Dean was thankful his precious snowflake was kept out of harm’s way.

 

“Alright sir, you have clearance.” She beamed. “Third floor, room 221B.”

 

“Thank you, Miss.” Dean returned her smile before walking over to the elevator and pushing the button with his elbow. The ride seemed to take forever. He just wanted to see Cas, but the elevator decided to just take its sweet time. The bell soon dinged, and Dean was hopping off and strutting down the hallway to Cas’ door. “Knock knock!” he called from the outside.

 

Castiel opened the door not a moment too soon. “Good morning.” he smiled, cheeks lightly dusted pink. “I don't remember ordering any-” he leaned forward and took a whiff of the Styrofoam cup, “coffee.”

 

“Yeah, well, I figured it would be a nice thing to do. Now let me in. My hands are getting burned.” Dean whined.

 

Castiel chuckled and opened his door for Dean to enter. His apartment looked different now than it did last night. But hey, Dean wasn't complaining. He put the cup holder on Cas’ kitchen island and removed a cup for him, handing it over with a grin. “So, what does Castiel have on his To Do list today?” Dean asked. 

 

“Well,” Cas took his drink from Dean. “I promised this creepy dude that we’d make out for a bit before his mani-pedi. Then I was going to go run some errands.” he took a sip and wrinkled his nose at the bitter taste. It needed some milk, and an asswad of sugar.

 

Dean grinned cheekily. “Some creepy dude you’d make out with him, huh? Sounds like competition. You better tell me who it is so I can let him know you’re taken.”

 

“Am I, now?” Castiel responded coyly. “I don’t remember getting that memo.” 

 

Dean smirked cockily. “Well, it’s more of an assumption. Y’know, since you’re being courted and everything.” 

 

“Courted? So this is 1800s England?”

 

“England is my city.” Dean teased.

 

Cas’ nose wrinkled once again. “Please go back to high school.”

 

“But it’s every day bro!” Dean pouted.

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing....” came the mumbled response. 

 

An hour of coffee stained liplock later and the two pulled off of each other. Cas’ back was leaned against the sofa armchair while Dean sat happily in his lap. “So, errands huh?” 

 

“They do need to be running.”

 

“Sounds like you need a partner in crime to go on the errands with.”

 

“Which is why I’ll be taking my imaginary friend.” 

 

Dean groaned. “Hannah is stupid. You should take me instead.” he poked Cas’ side with the tip of his shoe. 

 

Cas just smiled at him. “What about your girl’s day?”

 

“Betty can suck it. I want to spend the day with you.”

 

After what seemed to be another twenty minutes of just fondly staring into the other’s eyes, Castiel let Dean convince him to tag along. They bundled up in extra faux fur to keep them warm while they braced for the snow, and were now making their way down the elevator to the lobby. “Alright, you stay here while I get the car and get the heater blasting.” Dean told him.

 

“I’m not a dainty flower, I can come with you.” Cas argued, getting interrupted by Dean’s finger to his mouth. 

 

“I don’t need you freezing to death. I’ve got this.” 

 

Castiel sat on one of the chairs in the lobby while Dean attempted to leave the building. However, apparently it snowed a lot more than he had expected, and the doorman wasn’t letting anyone leave until the roads were safe. Solemnly, Dean returned to his boy/friend. “We’re locked in.”

 

“Snow?” Cas asked simply.

 

“Yep.”

 

“Want to have a movie day instead?”

 

Dean grinned. “You read my mind.”


End file.
